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.
Don’t let the daydreams live too long
Clear the cobwebs and proceed
So many children we must feed...
In the night I find your hand
Squeeze and feel your pressed reply
The truth of love I understand...
