I sat on a small dock
In a small city named Victoria
Watching the sun
Make pretty colors in the sky.

I felt the wind hit my cheek
And my feet touch
The ice cold water
As the bell tower struck 6.

I could hear my love
A thousand miles away
Laugh and talk
About life and wine.

I pined that they
Would come behind me
Call my name
And deliver their legendary smile.

But this
Was not to be.

And so I sat on that small dock
In that small city named Victoria
Watching the sun
Make pretty colors in the sky.

And I heard my love no more.

It should be considered
A flower gone withered
No color to show
Leaves drooping quite low
But it once showed its splendor
Before it did indeed surrender

Forget not its beauty
And take it as a lesson
To be better than oneself
And forego your hubris
Ere you err and be grass
Instead of a daisy.