See Me in Shame

Losing a love like that worries the soul, hurries the heart beat and makes the time drag.
Looking there above, might that bury the role, parry the far reach and take the mind back?
Sad that I dream of you still yet know you are happier in another’s arms
Bad that I mean for your will kept low to mar laughter and forever harm.
Don’t I know that you believe my love died when I left you crying in your doorway?
Won’t I grow that blue relief, my rough lies then but jest, true, dying in more poor ways?
Yet I live on with a fondness for the future and an itch to become a greater man
Regrets? I give none. Gifted, bond-less, more the couture man, hand stitched: new. He shuns a faker brand.
Hopefully, if we ever meet again, I will be able to smile at you, and you greet me the same.
Woefully, rifts seem ever deep, my friend. I’m ill. Free, stable, too riled at you. And you see me in shame.