Not like it was love...

It’s over now.
Not like anything truly began
I just know that it’s definitely over.
A race that’s finished, without ever being ran.
It has left a mark on me though
This thing that wasn’t anything exact.
A tiny argument that changed into a war
Over opinions disguised as fact.

When something dies so soon
Before it could even begin
It is fair to say that trying to revive it
Is a battle which you’re unlikely to win.
It is best to move on, and not write poems
That makes me look like a lovesick punk.
It is better to get over the moment
In which your heart truly sunk.

It’s not like it was love
It’s not like I’m left heartbroken.
There’s just this niggling feeling
That many things were left unspoken.
Life goes on though, could probably forget this by next week
Can’t ignore the reality though,
that; while I wrote this, a tear rolled down my cheek