On that day when you gallantly got up,
And started engraving with knife our names,
On the trunk of the shady silver oak tree,
With boyish charm, as if playing a game…

I urged, it’s cruel, don’t… it too hurts.
You nonchalantly said, “Don’t be silly”.
I looked away, disconcerted, as you added
Trees are not people, they have no feelings.

we met one year back, let's enjoy our anniversary,
Indulgently smiling, you said, “Let’s go and visit
That grove in the hills where you got angry
And just reminisce and for a while sit

Under the tree which bears testimony
To my love for you…” I kept quiet
But gave in to your relentless plea.
You turned your face away at the sight

The tree stood bare, shrivelled and desecrated
By graffiti… disbelief and anguish in your eyes
How could our names be deciphered?
I turned away, wishing I had not been right…

Mamta Agarwal

http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/at-times-you-wish-you-were-not-right/