This is a work constantly in progress. I don't know if it even exists on paper anymore, so I feel like it's different every time I "re-conjure" it. I'm kicking myself about not being able to remember a couple stanzas, but oh well. When I think of them I'll add them back in.

I haven't thought of a name for this poem, but basically it's just a metaphor for how things--all sorts of things--change. The relationship you have with any kind of thing--a person, a food, an idea--can change, just like that. And while you might think that the death of a relationship is bad, you also have to consider that with the death of something there also arises new life and opportunity:

A perfect gold world, and nothing could pry
at the happiness shared by the two;
Boy and Girl, both young and naive,
had the "far too good to be true."

But, as everyone knows, the way life runs
is never the easiest track;
sometimes it heads south, they quickly found out
when they were forced to take separate paths.

"I promise we'll be okay," she said,
"no distance can tear us apart.
Even though it'll be tough, our love is enough;
just promise to take care of my heart."

So new lives they lived, all the while staying true,
for the goal never slipped out of sight.
Of the future they'd think, oh what was in store!
for the couple, could they last through the nights...

After long months distant, it finally arrived:
the moment to which they'd counted down days.
Once again together, as they'd hoped for forever,
Boy and Girl locked in embrace.

Yet something was different--missing, evasive;
only half of the pair felt the change.
"Should I feel wrong?" the boy thought, "Am I at the fault
for what once was there's been replaced?"

Near eternity followed as the boy tried to swallow
guilt and pain gnawing inside.
But after obsessing over losses and opportunity cost
he chose the wrong, but the "feels the most right."

The breath he drew in, the beginning of the end,
what would follow, he'd planned on being hard;
the speech he'd recited was delivered, as planned,
to her face, but went straight to her heart:

"I'll find who I am, and then the us will rebirth,
things will be perfect, you'll see;
I'll give you my all if you'll take it in full,
but until then, forget about me."

Irreversible hurt from the terrible words
caused her pain to where she felt free,
the passing on wasn't hard, though her insides were scarred,
and she fell to a beautiful place.

The boy's sight grew softer, his heart beat dry,
for where she'd gone to, the gods only know.
Still, he smiled as he died, when her face lit the inside
of his eyelids, the last time they closed.

At the place of his grave, the memory stayed
locked up and awaiting the chance
to haunt, if let out, the ones without doubt
who believe that a good thing can last.