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Gentle are the tears that fall,
As my thoughts drift back to you,
My heart has no understanding,
Of what you say or do.
Like a mystical gust of wind,
You entered in my heart,
And like a magicians puff of smoke,
Our friendship fell apart.
The beginning was as a stranger,
Then you graduated as a friend,
After months of growth together,
Bitterness was the end.
I only hope that someday, you find,
What it is, you so desire,
And all the bridges that you build,
You don't set their truss on fire.
Someday, perhaps, you'll realize,
That you left a friend in tears,
Hoping the best for you and yours,
Now and through the years.
by Angela Ladouceur
February 09, 1999 |
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