Young Love
This old and hardened soul longing for promises to be kept.
Alone I stand remembering what I thought I once had.
Thinking back to the time I had, love just slipped in mind.
Savoring the agony of a broken heart again
Retracing my dreams I find empty words from the past.
The promise of young love, still lingering in my head.
But how could we know the words that we told, were empty with no soul.
Claiming the world of love in our hands
Never understanding what it meant.
Oh, sweet is the sound, young loves pretend.
Hoping beyond hope, until it ends.
The stories start so grand, the gestures bold and true.
We sing our songs and dance our dance.
Playing pretend because it’s all we know to do.
Now I sit on my liar’s throne still hoping beyond hope.
That this old soul can know love once more.
But with a tired brow, I let loose a final sigh.
I have in part of my mind, let go of the dream.
For as my hands age and become weathered and old
So does my heart, grow even more tired and cold.
As the last breath of love slows in the frozen air
I find myself lost only in a promise.
The promise of what love once was.