You have this dream, that she’ll be there
At dinnertime tonight
And, if you make it perfect
Everything will be alright
But flowers cannot fix it
Cannot make this dream come true:
Don’t worry friend, she’ll smile again —
But it won’t be
With you
When the end is nigh, may as well lay it on thick. The truth can hurt, but I’d prefer the truth over a masquerade.
So simple and beautiful! I love it!
Thanks… I’ve been “they guy” in this poem who thinks he can fix his screw-ups, but finds out it’s one time too many and she’s moved on.
Ouch, the pain is highly tangible. Beautifully expressed.