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.
No one can quite understand
Not young exactly THEN
The wildness of the Sixties...
This to the girl with the world on her shoulders
(Family, work, all the problems that press)
I love you...
