Down The Garden Path

birds-216412_1920Image: pixabay.com

 

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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