the trees

I remember, you know,
how your eyes sparkled
when I entered the room,
and I felt myself to be
so much greater a man
than I had ever been—
to be so loved by you.

But in the time it takes
for a heart to stop beating
your love for me died,
and I lied to myself
again and again, hoping
that you would return
to me once more.

And so I, a man of thought
and learning dedicated
to uncovering the truth,
found myself scourged
day after day by a reality
I could not bear to see—
and thus began to weep.

Which is how I know now
that it is time for me to leave,
for the light grows unbearably
bright, chastising my naiveté,
demeaning my once eager will.
I have seen trees grow and die,
and it is not for me to outlive them.