Embers Fading

About an old friendship gone sour.

The hours turned into days
the days turned into weeks,
the weeks turned into months,
the months are turning into years.
But let me tell you my opinion.
The magic never went away, darling.
You smashed it out
with your heel
like an old cigarette.
It was there until the bitter end
which is more,
I must admit,
than I can say for you.