How sad is the sight of a single tear drop that never meets another tear.
Never knowing the feeling of being a part of a greater emotion, you were just a fleeting passion.
A single tear from a single feeling and not one that is felt.
It is simply remembered as that time you felt that thing.
And nothing more.
Sometimes I see you in the night. Between the cubes and the decision to contemplate that time of indecision. So many gifts you’ve given me and never known it. You’ll never know it and that’s the irony. That’s the shame.