A Meeting[]
Man and woman talking in the East Village. Photo by Andy Williams. Courtesy X-Rite Blog.
What, you did always love me,
And never told me so?
Kept silence just to prove me,
And, the proof wanting, simply let me go?
And hence your life miscarried,
And every night you weep?
And I — well, I am married,
And have the better reason not to sleep.
My tone sets your wound smarting?
No need! I'll tell you why
(Since here's another parting)
— My reason is the same as yours — Good-bye.
This poem is in the public domain