The bench where we once shared a kiss,
Is rusted now, a lonely place.
No one has sat or felt its bliss,
No soul has walked that empty space.
The tree beneath which love was born,
Has never bloomed again since then.
The ground around it stands forlorn,
Avoided by both beasts and men.
And yet I pass by now and then,
To stir those memories inside,
Of promises we made back when,
With hearts so full and eyes so wide.
27.01.1995
05:05
