He pours himself another drink,
Trying to drown his sorrow;
And if it doesn't work tonight,
He'll try again tomorrow.
Lying in a darkened room,
His thoughts turn to her eyes;
He used to swim in them,
While she told him little lies.
She stepped on his pride,
Never turned back to see his face;
He still dreams of her at night,
Soft images of satin and lace.
She's never seen a man cry,
He waited until she was gone;
She'd be surprised to see him now,
He looks so pale and withdrawn.
To her they were just little lies,
And now she tells them to another;
But there's hollow pain in his eyes,
Because she hurt him like no other.
Shannon D. Montgomery