Of all the times you have plucked one of the abundant lilies that encompass us.
And stroked my bare legs with it.
Making me do the girly giggle which I hate.
Our distorted, green reflections bouncing off the water.
The gleaming sun, which sneaks through the trees reflecting off that damn ring which I want for myself.
All the times you have brushed wet links of brown hair from my face.
In the middle of this mossy lake.
The water lilies that encompass us.
The green reflections.
On the left side.
But in the reality, which in the dank morning I hate to face, you were never really here.
It was all in my mind.
I was told this is a good poem. Tell me what you think.