And, though I often think about you
And what you meant to me,
I know I’m better off without you
And need to leave you be.

For, though you took my way of living
And turned it on its head,
Before too long, you left off giving
And kept your peace, instead.

At first, my lack of understanding
Weighed greatly on my mind:
I thought that I’d been too demanding
Or kept you too confined.

But now I see your change of heart
Was part and parcel of your art.

Photo by Houcine Ncib on Unsplash

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