The hurt

Riding back on the bikes

A sunny sunday out

Some random spot you stop

Get antsy, no reason I'm thinking

But you'd been quiet all day

Secretive like, sulky

What am I to believe

We should have no secrets

But you lie, deceive

As you tell me, I know

I scramble a bit away, hurt, angry

Look at my face

These tears you create

Talk to me now

With honesty

How we started this

No cold shoulder treatment

Your almighty sighs

You gave me your heart, I gave you mine

Our joys were as high as the sky

Now you look away

Enough

I start walking

You can just go to her

I'd rather be only with me

Words written January 2021 inspired by the photo of Ya (permission sought). Music, Time by Anoice. 

Copyright 2016 John Williams