I had some bad news to deliver,
So I took her to my spot
The bench under the tree,
With all its gnarled knots

The bench right by the creek,
Right where the turtles like to play
A sacred spot of rest,
And shade on sunny days

I sat her down beside me,
And prepared her for the worst
Something so horrible,
It had taken eight weeks to rehearse

I really wish he'd told her,
Like he said he would
Should have known an aggressor's word
Is rarely ever good

I told her all there was to tell,
I answered every question
And then I found myself alone,
Silence in all directions

She walked so far away,
That I couldn't hear her voice
My story then repeated,
To the person of her choice

I waited on the bench,
And then waited some more
I made a small bouquet,
From flowers on the shore

I tied it up with grass,
And set it to the side
Such a mindless act of beauty,
I'm shocked I didn't cry

Not a sound escaped my lips,
Even after she returned
From the feeling in the air I knew,
The meeting was adjourned

Less than one day later,
She sat me down backstage
Though her conclusions were ill-founded,
Her words stung all the same

Eight weeks of work and "it's not your fault"
She did her best to make undone
Not only did I encourage him,
But I broke the essence of our bond

My dishonesty, my silence,
Can never be forgiven
My every flaw as a friend,
Unasked for, yet still given

Her final words were pure spite
If I'd only told her that same night

But how could I have told her,
What I didn't understand?
In an effort to escape the room,
I may have kissed her man

Four months to process,
Four hours locked away
But I never knew peace,
until I made that bouquet.