The one you left me for
Not directly of course,
Never directly, except if cheating in the way you do not
But indirectly, always someone that comes next
And in this way you receive her, and I hope for your sake
That her eyes are as bright as the stars I've missed you on,
Her gait as graceful as the time I've passed you on,
Which is to say not at all, grating has the distance been,
As I've grown thin.
And in this imperfection of hers I hope you find delight
And that it blocks all your memory of me
So I may suffer in my own silence
Mean and weary
Tired and dreary
Cold and teary
Bowed and cowed and utterly leery
Of the me that never was or could have been
The me that you would've stayed to see become.