top of page
Writer's pictureDawson Stafford

Old Flame

Your first love is someone special,

who holds a place within your heart.

You still get that fuzzy feeling,

even though you’ve been years apart.


Love was young and foolish then,

but felt so real and strong.

Once we were inseparable,

where did it go so wrong?


The scars of life, they may be deep,

and etched upon your soul.

But that’s the cost living,

the pain of growing old.


The what ifs, buts and maybes,

of a life that might have been.

Would you do things differently,

if you had the chance again?


The children that you may have had,

the things you may seen.

The highs and lows of living,

a life that may have been.


You don’t know where you’re going,

but you do know where you’ve been.

The things you’ve said can’t be unsaid,

nor the things you’ve seen unseen.


The grass is not always greener,

on the other side.

The turf it may be lush and green,

but the roots are short and slight.


Memories clouded by the sands of time,

return within your dreams.

Living out scenarios,

that are real or so it seems.


You gave commitment long ago,

in sickness and in health.

You made your choice so live with it,

your health is surely wealth.


The flame it might look dimmer,

as we navigate the years.

But that old flame flickers deep inside

a flame I still hold so dear.


37 views2 comments

תגובות

לא היה ניתן לטעון את התגובות
נראה שהייתה בעיה טכנית. כדאי לנסות להתחבר מחדש או לרענן את הדף.
bottom of page