I held your hands at the age of seven,

While we played under the shade of the wisteria tree;

You said the flower reminded you of me,

We both knew little, but I loved you back then.

That one night, you told me that you loved me,

And at age seventeen, we shared our first kiss.

The wisteria stood witness of that fleeting bliss;

I loved you with all that had been, and for all that will be.

You left my heart broken the night I turned twenty-four;

How cruel is the story our fate has engraved?

Like the bouquet of wisteria on your grave,

I was left cold amidst the never-ending downpour.

Not even time can erase the painful longing,

Even at age fifty, I live with your shadow overhead.

The wisteria wind carries the words left unsaid—

In a futile attempt to heal the heart that's been crying.

- ℐ

(08•12•20)

(A/N: I made this poem on the day I first published this book here on Wattpad—it's also where I got my username from! I waited so long before finally including it, as I thought to publish it near the end part of this book.

This poem was my February entry for The Poetic Prose Community's monthly prompt contest. I won third place, yay!)