Your timorous voice that asks, “Did you truly love me?”
But how could I answer that when I would only descry
The true answer in the pit of my stomach? And my
Portmanteau was already full to the brim. You see
That I could not stay anymore and there was that
Bombastic speech I had prepared in my head, telling
You I am sorry, but once I saw you I stopped dwelling
On my faults as I could tell your spirits were already flat.
My once risible smile could not save you anymore. I would
Only enervate and crush your spirit. My mawkish remarks
Would only remind you of better times and insouciant sparks
That remind you of the night we first met, right where we stood.