Amidst the Pages

Decades later...
The old man opened his school notebook,
not knowing what lay within.
Therein he found a withered rose,
with pages that had lost their ink.

The stem had turned into mesh,
the red petals, now brown...
The old man, too farsighted to read;
too colourblind to be worried,
treasured the wilted rose like a crown.

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I can't write when I'm happy
It's true, I just can't.
This ink only flows
When there's an ache in my heart.
I should then, apologise
For not sharing any poem today...
I hope you understand,
I really don't have any pain to portray.
But if you don't,
I honestly don't care.
My heart's genuinely smiling,
And days like this are extremely rare.

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Truthfully, I never thought you and I could work.
But, you eventually had me believing we had a small chance.
I wish I had known then, my first instincts are always right.
Oh, how I hope I'd been wrong!

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Now that I know
how things between us have ended
Now that I know
how many times my heart has been broken
Now that I know
how much pain it has had to bear
Now that I know
how everything has gone down the drain

I would still turn back time
To fall in love with you all over again.

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"Farewell,
Someday, years hence,
You and I will be married —
Each to someone else.
I hope we get to meet then,
I'd love to see your smile again.
But until then, my sweet love,
Farewell."

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