Memory hurts – our hearts are stung
But sometimes I think the pain is for
Not a particular place but more
A special time – when we were young
For freer days when we knew hope
And what we felt we had was – scope.
When we quarrel angels die
Good dreams wither for a while
However, from death angels fly...
You are my life: there’s no divide
Hard words could cause or temper bring
I love you more than being or thing...
