Red roses and frosted glass on my windowpane,

Curly fries and kisses blurred in the rain.

Light streaming in on us both in bed,

Pre-work kisses pressed to your forehead.

The bliss of not knowing what it is to come,

And I guess the lifestyle I chose only works out for some.

Early morning runs and Christmas at the zoo,

Red dresses and tattoos and your pickup truck too.

Prom court and countless nights getting wasted,

All that precious time wasted...

I’d give anything to go back to those days,

All that remains sits wilting in my vase.

These little red roses, like all those times ago,

Are all that he left me when he decided to go.

This is what happens when love isn’t forced,

But this is what happens when high school sweethearts end in divorce.