The Lone Me

The lone bench awaits thou alike me

As fall awaits blossoming of spring.

Moments spent together, splashes of bygone

Dreams lived together, are perhaps forgone.

I gather the dry leaves and flowers,

Souvenir of love I find scattered there.

As the melancholic words are hummed by the chair

My desolate heart finds solace in despair.

Spring arrives, the woods are abloom

Showers nature with its perfume.

Yet thou lost the way that ushered to me

I eternalize the moments spent with thee.

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