Oh How His Walk Was A Shallow One

Never did he wonder what his world was made from.
A hollow carving in a tree, sinking fast, no place to be.
The fading picture is the memory creating lines
Fracturing his very image of reality.

All he wanted was to make castles in the sand
Waiting for his true love to come, to make amends.
For all the wrongs that he had told
His love had hated to the very core.

There he sat waiting on the bench
Alone with the apologetic flowers
In his hands.

His lover stood not far away
Watching as he sat there every day.
Not a muscle nary move
If just to prove the point,
Flowers just won't do.

Oh how it hurt to feel such pain
He never knew his love could make him feel this way.
Had he not hidden it from the start
Their love may not have fallen apart.
But there he sat, yet every day.
If only to pretend his love might come his way.

He spent his life there on that bench
Holding flowers waiting to repent.
Forgiven on the day
His love had been cruelly taken away.
And there the flowers stayed.