He held high hopes for finding love,
Yet followed no man’s rules.
He tried to make his dreams come true.
His friends called him a fool.
He had and lost a woman’s love,
The one thing he’d longed for.
But, just the same he hoped and prayed
To win her love once more.
He sold his things and then he made
The necessary plans
So they’d be reunited, then
Perhaps he’d win her hand.
He travelled many miles so he
Could see that girl once more,
But he got there and found she was
Already spoken for.
His dreams don’t matter anymore.
They’re now just memories.
I know his story very well.
That lonely fool is me.
March 6, 1981
© 2010 – 2011, Steven R. Drennon. All rights reserved.