There's a small, hurt part
In my heart.
That's you.
It came when you walked down the stairs
The last time
And I knew
I'd never hold you again.
As if you reached out and hit me,
I'm bruised inside.
Damn, it makes me angry.
Love's not supposed to hurt.
Why did you let that happen?
Why did we?
I laughed when you said
You were magic.
That's the truth, you said.
Well, man, I think
You out-magicked us both
'Cause I'm here
And you're there.
Why did you let that happen?
Why did we?
Copyright 1976, Diana W. Smith, All Rights Reserved