Save your words and declarations for a yellow day in Spring,
When the shades of blue in sky match the colour in your eyes,
Make me empty promises as the sun sets in the east,
When the dappled shades of pink match the dimples in your cheek.
Maybe then I will believe.
Spring makes the cautious heart naive.
But you promised me the world on a grey day in September,
When the sad skies cried cold droplets of rain,
You uttered those sweet words as thunder muttered in the distance,
When the clouds rolled in to claim the clear skies I adored.
And for once I saw you as you were.
On a cold day in the dead of winter.
No more am I blinded by the brightness of Spring.