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.
Thanks for sharing pain
If I can give arms
I shall not complain...
And now the gold and mauve and pink
Of sunset fades and darkness falls
And evening crowds and then we think...
