Posted in Life, Prose, Relationships

My First Love, and I

My first love, and I

should by chance

meet again, after

so many years flowing

under the bridge,

 

“Do you remember”, she asked

“Oh yes, I do.” At least the parts that I

wanted to,

 

We wrote endless letters, every day

never missing a beat, of our love

for each other, and our future

together,

 

But times changed, and words flew

and  love became lost, and we parted

and everyone she knew, warned her against

me, the first one who fell in love, with the likes of

her,

 

And then we played, the game of being

together, then not, then together

again,

 

Then the years flew by, and the miles as well, but

then we chanced to write a bit, finding

ourselves once again,

 

“Regrets?”, she asked, but lie I did,

“No, of course not”, I never would

tell her the truth, the pain that I felt,

the longing gone cold, the love

the love,

 

Our lives were our own, so different

it seems, my yellowed love letters,

our promises, to

each other, gone

 

I lied a lie, which was the truth

about a love, my first one it seems,

long gone, now and years between, but

regrets,

and lies, go hand in hand,

like we did as well,

-a distant time

past….

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Author:

My profile might reflect who I am, what I think and why I write what I do. My profile might just reveal the inner workings of a deranged mind, a helpless soul, and a self-destructive way of living. Don't worry. I'm OK. I've just lost sight of my little sister in the evening clouds....

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