This is one of the first poems I ever wrote. Its also one of my favorites. |
She sits and thinks of things in the past, of how things change and nothing lasts. She thinks of him and the love they had, How it started out good and ended so bad. She misses his smile, his love, his touch; she never knew knew she could feel so much. She thinks of the passion and those endless nights, then remembers the tears and numerous fights. She never wanted to see them end, but knows they can't go back again. He sits and thinks of things now gone, how it felt so right but turned out all wrong. He thinks of her and the love they shared, how he did his best to show he cared. He thinks of her eyes, her scent, her hair. He closes his eyes and pictures her there. He thinks of their plans and their big dream but knows things aren't always just what they seem. The last thing he wanted was to make her cry, but he had no choice when he said goodbye. They think of each other and the memories they made and how after a while, those memories do fade. They didn't feed the fire, their flame slowed to a spark; so they lost their path, consumed by the dark. Yet the smoke from that spark still hangs in the air, just as the ghost of true love forever lingers there. |