Photograph: Sharron R. McMillan
I thought they were tiny birds
falling to the ground.
I waited for them to soar again
but they were only leaves
dropping
to shrivel
and die.
I thought it was an eagle
soaring through the sky,
my symbol of freedom
above my head
but it was only a crow
coming to steal the ripened pears
from under my gaze.
I thought you were my friend
but when I needed you
you had other friends
to be loyal to.
I thought our love was above deceit
but you still had
more games to play
and you were used
to winning.
Nothing
is
as I thought
it was.
©Sharron R. McMillan
hernibs 