I'd rather be lost in the forest
Than found in this concrete jungle around us.
The only organic thing I can see now
Is that furrow in your brow.
Lately, I've noticed more when you look away.
On this bench we could always talk, before today.
Gently, the rain caresses your silhouette.
Oh, the way you used to smile
Sitting on this bench.
Fooled for a while,
I thought you were content.
Goodbye, my friend.
Hello, trees.

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