I gave you candy.
There wansn't anything special or different about it.
It tasted like any other candy.
But you loved it. You loved it,
Because I gave it to you.

I drew you a picture.
Nothing special, just a wolf.
It looked like any other wolf.
But you loved it. You loved it,
Because I gave it to you.

I got you a teddy bear.
It was brown, just ordinary.
It didn't move or talk.
But you loved it. You loved it,
Because I gave it to you.

I found you a bouncy ball.
It was clear and sparkly.
It was special, you liked bouncy balls.
I knew you would love it.

But when I called,
Excited about your response to my gift,
I was called an interruption, a burden.
You were mad at me, calling you on your day off.

How dare I?
...
What did I do?
...

The candy was eaten,
The picture thrown away when you
cleaned you room.
The bear is in the back of your closet, forgotten.
Your ball is sitting here. On my desk.

I found you the perfect gift.
I gave it to you when we first met.
I gave it willingly,
although it was hard at first.

I thought you would love it.
But you broke it. You broke it.
You broke my heart,
Because I gave it to you.