Strange, isn’t it? How the boy I never thought to fear,
Now walks beside her, in whispers she holds dear.
A year they’ve known, yet closer they’ve grown—
While I drift alone, like a heart made of stone.

Seven years we wove with threads of care,
Built from laughs and tears and promises rare.
But he, in months, has somehow won a part,
That I spent years trying to hold in her heart.

She says his confession was light as air, just words—
But he remains, while my love fades unheard.
Best friends, she calls him, like an easy refrain,
While I smile, hiding the quiet, growing pain.

So here I am, a shadow of what we were,
In the life we planned, now a faded blur.
Watching him stand where I once stayed,
As I learn to let go, where I thought we’d be made.