Not Exactly Hallmark

Three…two…one,

That’s it, we’re done.

No more chances,

No more glances,

We’ve had our fun.

We started hot,

But now we’re not.

Cooling desires

Turned us into liars,

Neither thinking we’d be caught.

Good-bye my lover,

No need to hover.

Let’s both be on our way,

Nothing more to say,

We’ve no secrets left to discover.

I’ll think of you fondly,

I could say,

But that would be a lie.

Rather I’ll note,

That as regrets go,

You’re fairly far down the line.

This post is a response to a writing prompt from Write On Edge:  “This week, we’d like you to write a post – fiction or creative non-fiction – which begins with a countdown. “Three, two, one.” You pick what the countdown is for. The ideas above are just suggestions. Use your imagination and have fun with it!”

In this poem I was aiming for a sense of cold dismissal at the end of a relationship between two people, neither of whom have behaved particularly well.  What were your impressions?  Let me know in the comments!