My Bench

I sit upon my lonely bench,
In the park watching wrens,
I remember your tender face as clear as day,
Pondering silently what you did say,
I feel the tears sting my eyes,
At the thought of your last lie,
You said you loved me more than her,
That your sweet feelings for me would always linger,
But I'm not so simple as to believe,
Another lie made up for me,
For if you loved me more than her,
You and your love would have lingered.

I sit upon my lonely bench,
Watching you through a fence,
Though it might as well be a one-way mirror,
For in my direction your head never steers,
I think of all the lies you told,
Of all the love to you I sold,
Of all the care that I gave,
Every night and every day,
To you, the one who stole my heart,
Who took and tore it all apart,
The one who so wrongly used,
My love, It was so abused.

So as I sit upon my bench,
Feeling hardly less than dead,
I tell myself I'm over you,
That we are really truly through,
That I don't have to hear,
About your stupid fear,
Of being rejected by society,
I guess the love from me,
Wasn't enough for you,
That your love wasn't true,
This is what I think of when,
I'm seated here upon this bench.