The Spreading Chestnut Tree

Under the rustling leaves of the chestnut tree,
I dreamt of the days when I used to be free.
Free from you and the chains you wound around my heart;
I gazed up, closed my eyes and wanted to restart.
Thinking back I can see you with her now,
Her beautiful golden tresses falling across her brow.
I'll bet your head is lying on her lap,
And you tell her what you told me, a perfect trap.
You must be staring into her eyes so longingly,
Telling her that you want her as much as you wanted me.
You tell me that you stay with her until past midnight,
And sometimes I wonder if it was really because I was so far away that it never worked out right.
I loved you, love you and will so through and through
But now it's just too late for me and you.
So as I sit under this beautiful chestnut tree,
I remember the book that you told me to read just to see.
It was Nineteen-eighty-four by George Orwell,
And I remember us arguing about a quote from it so well.
I told you that I would never betray you and you laughed at me,
Saying "In some circumstances people just do, you'll see."
So now I recite the same quote, crying, just to me,
"Under the spreading chestnut tree, I sold you...
and you sold me."