Roses, strewn across the 5th avenue
Thorns shredded,
The sky is a dull red
The landscape a haze of smoke

Bodies drifting apart,
Souls, are they still attached?
Monotones of a sad shadow
Draped in a shawl of broken hearts

With smudged mascara,
Broken bottles, and a beat up console,
They both slept, weeping
Night after night

Sudden realizations are magically, indeed,
They weren’t meant for the other
Liberated were they, now

No more broken souls,
And tear stained red eyes,
Wet pillows or thoughts of despair
Just plain back to being friends, business

If it only wasn’t so strange,
Humans and their emotions, not so tangled,
We’d reap more relations more often,
And roses won’t be strewn across the 5th avenue