There are flowers on the table.
There is water in the vase.
There’s a story in this fable.
We keep hidden in a maze.
I only miss what could have been.
I don’t think about what was.
What I have in here and now.
No excuses, no because.
You don’t believe I’ve moved on.
I don’t believe I care.
There’s a memory now of me and you.
And you were far from fair.