Oh, how you hurt me so. How I write in times of woe. Though, I never found you a foe. I did all I could, and you did what you should. Nothing really ever works, and this pain lurks. I tend to rhyme when I’m not in my prime; tend to visualize when I don’t feel prioritized. Though I enjoyed my time with you, this still hurts more than I could imagine. You were my world, but now my head is nothing but swirled. A sweet and sour lemon drop on the tongue is the best way to describe our time in young. I hope this choice is best for you I truly do, but what you did I shall rue.