Again I sit with you, my old friend
And your strings are slightly worn and rusted...

How could I be so stupid?
She trusted me...

Rejection...
The inevitable...

Love is much like a poem.
It is not always true...

She and I sit in the rain
On a concrete bench...

The depths of your eyes
Pools of clouded water...

Your love is a pendulum
Ever swinging before my eyes...