I thought your heart
Still beat in time with mine
But the last rose
From the bouquet you gave me
Was wilted and dying.
I ignored the signs.
I ignored the sound
Of your heart
Finding a new rhythm —
It’s own rhythm.
Our story is over.
The song has elapsed,
The curtain has fallen,
The book has been closed
And you are gone.
Moved on.
Intrigued by something —
By someone —
New.
Now I’m alone
And I feel
...nothing.