They say, it takes two people to tango,
You held me tight and then let me go,
Right foot forward, as we played the hymn of our romance,
I pulled my ace and gave you one last chance and dance.
You never read my mind, I tried to read your letters,
You said, you're tired of searching for tinkerbells’ so am I with Peters’
Musings addressed to the blazing and vanishing flame,
I wrote several love cards and you branded them lame.
I heard your regrets, I laughed so hard,
Grown man, but ended up in a junkyard,
Rain pouring down when I saw her in skirts,
Questions lingered when I saw you in the outskirts.
Years and years of reading your notes,
Days and days of missing footnotes,
There's a hole, left inside your stoned chest,
A warrior without a sword, a knight without a crest.
