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.