Love is just a figment of the imagination.

Like unicorns, and fairies, and tax returns.

And eternal friendship? Surely you jest!

People come and people go, and

One makes new friends all the time,

The old must make way for the new -

Such is the nature of life.
 

In days, or maybe months (they say,

These people who do not believe in love)

You'll forget, and the wounds will heal

And life, as always, will go on

And then, of course (they kindly add

Seeing that this does not convince me)

When one bids a friend goodbye, there is always

The joy of a future meeting to anticipate.

All this may be true, but if so -

Why does my coffee taste of ashes today?

Why does my breath catch in my throat

And the sun seem lifeless and gray?