An ancient and bitter wisdom within me wonders
At your past words of love.
So like the Hobbit-ridden tale of one ring to bind
Has become the fantasy of our forever.
A bright future mirrored from the glass surface
Of the lake as we sat and picnicked upon cool shores.
Dining on the remains of my freedom
And former blissful dreams
Packed into a wicker basket.
We walked in the meadows, grass crunchy, crisp.
Clear air from an early fall frost
Chilled my nose as poetic azure skies
Smiled down upon me.
I wanted to kick off shoes and run free,
But reality and adulthood
Tethered me to your grasping, entrapping hand
As surely as the ring of forever-lost
Now tarnished and abandoned.
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