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.
This was poem number two of a two-part poem thing but I decided only to put up one. Both would be an over ****.