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.
What is the story of your life?
I have a friend – she is my wife...
I love the times you call me a cunt
Though some might think it an affront
But I still bliss in knowing this...