The great loves are hard to love, hard to forget,
The explosion at the end just when life is set.
Memories that chill to the core of our very being,
Enchantment at first then the love of never seeing.
The silence is a gift from the echoes of yelling,
Closing the vault on true love, never ever telling.
Relief from the verbal castration of the demon seed,
Closing our eyes at night away from souls cold need.
Praying each night that our hearts will at last mend,
Writing letters and texts we know we will never send.
Closing our eyes at night to recreate the dream of we,
Forever in the blessed place, embraced in our eternity.
Copyright © Michele Osborn, 2013 All Rights Reserved
Even Now Barry Manilow
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3g7-HQuMDj8
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