Meltdown

I left you a card

I asked

As you stirred your coffee

Sitting by the entrance

Of the café



“Oh that was ages

I almost forgot”



It had my poems



I wrote specially

For you

With words

Of affection and sublime charm

Woven with feelings

Pure and true



And

You failed to mention

It’s been six months



I waited for you

To let me know



A gesture

A word

That you read it?

Liked it?





My expectations melted

Like butter

On your toast

Author's Notes/Comments: 

These events took place before the third poem “Winter Chill” but I think it is more appropriate to put it as last. What do you think.
The poem speaks for itself. What can I say it ended before it began, that is life? What did I expect out of this affection nothing? All I was looking for was a good friend.

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