Sickly, sappy, happy, sad.
All the joyous times we had.
Gone is the passion, the loving flame.
And we only have ourselves to blame.
Yet, you still are my friend.
We part without a bitter end.
Maybe madam, there was not meant to be
this love between you and me.
Still, smiles flutter to my face
when you bless me with your grace.
A tear I shed as we part,
a final death within my heart.
This poem I leave as my signature,
that in this life I shall endure.
I will learn to love again.
With my paper and my pen,
I leave these words for you.