I can not bet this is precise veracity,
but it jumped out of my mind on this date which is cruel specially to me.
Even though except me,
no one would remember why it was so different of my life.
I wrote it.
Due to I've known clearly that who turned back first....
wouldn't remember all of these small particular.
For all the poems written on the subject of unrequited love,
there are so few on the pain of being the object of that affection.
The truth is...
It's not love on which the strongest foundations are built.
It's the decency of merciful lies.