We used to talk about growing old
Together, her and me,
And heaven knows I did the best I could,
Guess it just wasn’t meant to be.
We used to talk about the time we’d share
In our golden years,
But now the only thing we have in common
Is our never ending tears.
Maybe we were just too optimistic
And so sure about love.
I guess we should have been more realistic
And said that wasn’t enough.
We used to talk about the dreams we had
And how our lives would be,
But now the only thing we have to show
For all our efforts is some misery.
Perhaps someday we’ll come to understand
Just how we fell apart,
But until then we’ll have to do our best
To try to mend these broken hearts.
Sept. 25, 1993
© 2011 – 2013, Steven R. Drennon. All rights reserved.