The picnic on the gently sloping hill
Soft fingers entwined
Leaning up on his torso
Its yourself you’re trying to find
As you lay against his chest
His fingers combing your hair
You feel so protected
Your wrapped up in his care
Watching the sun set
Mortal time on this earth
When he popped the question
Practically a rebirth
And now two years into it
The relationship takes a turn
You don’t know what made it happen
Human nature, you have much to learn
Sitting on that same spot
Under that loyal white timber
The sun setting on the lake
The water shimmers
Maybe you knew it would be over
You just chose not to see
Over the phone, he said the fateful words
“Its not you, its me”
No matter how long or hard I hope
I know it will never be the same
He wasn’t the first, but he was special
Yet why doesn’t he feel shame?
It will take some time for wounds to heal
Like an old soldiers battle infections
Its not his fault, I just have to figure out why
And make those connections
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