How did it come to this, to this?
He caught the eye of the man on the bench, by the tree.
The tree that he and her…..
That she so delicately, and casually, stole his heart by in a wonderful way.
His wizened old face, eroded with age, was kind and thoughtful.
And so the sitting sage, beckoning him with sun tanned hand, interrupted his loss.
They sat together the old and the new,
And as time passed their friendship grew.
As he shared his pain of the love she denied him now,
Of all times why now?
And he explained how, things were simpler when he was a lad.
But the pain of loss is timelessly bad.
And ever shall be, for such is love.
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