Down The Garden Path



We said the words

We played the game

Hand in hand down the garden path

Though the truth pierced through our clasp


It was nothing more than a shadow

Not cast very far

Thriving only at the brightest hour

And ultimately underwhelming


As futile as it was mediocre

It had its virtues

A marriage of convenience is wanting

But being alone is a scourge of its own


Then it wasn’t fun anymore

A heavy yoke to drag me down

A barrier to something real

A refusal of what’s deserved

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