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by Ray
Rated: E · Other · Dark · #1416405
Feelings lost.
Dead and scattered leaves,
Rustling at my feet,
This once was the place,
Where we used to meet.

Once not that long ago,
This place held such a charm,
But now just by being here,
It causes my heart such harm.

Under the summer foliage,
The trees so lush and green,
In the shadows under their boughs,
We shared our hopes and dreams.

Here is where we would sit,
And for endless hours,
Chat and discuss all things,
Among the grass and flowers.

Through the good times and bad,
And the sadness and the laughs,
We had helped each other out,
And resolved things from our pasts.

We had promised to each other,
The one thing that we'd never do,
Would be to ignore the other,
So now, tell me, why do you?

It had stared out so slowly,
But then within a week or two,
I no longer was hearing anything,
Not a single thing from you.

I did not ask for very much,
Once in a while a couple lines,
Telling me you were around,
Just to let me know you were fine.

But instead I got a silence,
Without even a single reply,
The long days turned into weeks,
Still nothing from that friend of mine.

That was when the leaves began,
To fall here in our place,
The flowers died and cold winds blew,
Of our time together, not a trace.

But then that wasn't quite enough,
You still had to hurt me more,
You reached back into the past,
And you punched at an old sore.

You scarred me most harshly,
With a wound that is deep,
You knew when you said that,
It would surely cause me to weep.

That the one I had so trusted,
With whom I'd spent so much time,
Would throw me away like so,
That should be a cyber-crime.

After sharing so much together,
And after all of the things we spoke,
You know that by treating me like this,
It is quite simply my heart you broke.

A friend would never do this,
Or tolerate one who would,
But I'd let you back in my life,
If there was any way I could.

So what does that say of me,
To forgive such treatment at all,
Does it mean I'm just tolerant,
Or aiming for a fall?

They say that forgiveness,
Is the ultimate sign of grace,
But when should you stop it,
And just turn away your face?

But now I face these questions,
Like how long do you try to keep,
Even if they seem to ignore you,
Someone of whom you often think.

And I face the long silence,
And the words you so quickly said,
And the idea it was never real,
It all tumbles inside my head.

I let someone inside,
And I thought that you had too,
But no friend would do the things,
That you so easily do.

So now these scattered leaves,
Of our friendship, brown and dead,
Drift upon the winds of fate,
Silently, they cover my still head.

© Copyright 2008 Ray (caylor at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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