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Sitting there she waits, on the brown graffitied bench
waiting for him to come, although she doubts he ever will.
The night has set on the city, things cloaked in shadow
but she too focused on the disappointed tears to care.
Just another time, another place, another time he hasn’t come.
This was his last chance, and he knew it.
Sitting there she stays, on the brown graffitied bench
that matches her ripped graffitied jeans.
A note written in green gel pen that’s lost it’s glitter
There to remind her that he will always be there for her.
Just another note, another time when he said those words
That he never really meant, and she knew it.
Sitting there she sighs, on the brown graffitied bench
tiring of waiting for him, and yet still hoping he will.
Finally, she stands, standing there in the yellow streetlights
gives him one more second to arrive, but he doesn’t.
Just another time, but this time she has finally given up.
This was his last chance, and he blew it.
Sitting there it sat, the brown graffitied bench
empty and vacant, after having watched so many chances.
Shadows fall on the bench, angular and strange
The bench- almost- waiting- for something.
And just another time, the hiding man emerges from his hiding place
As he does…every…time.
And he sighs, because he loves her so
But knows she deserves more.