. . . and the love felt now hurts more
than the pain ever felt
knelt down
and these tears
they represent
nothing more than the purity left
in what's pure
and the innocence of a child
that finds its way through
the eyes of a soul,
a soul that beholds years of long ago.
So old. . . and so old all the
pain felt has made this soul.
And through all this, love
only hurts through the knowledge
of pain. . .
to feel innocent and to feel
oh so pure again,
& realizing how long ago
and so long ago it was
that this soul knew such
love. . .
a love that was nothing more
than pure,
held tightly. . .
so tight inside the
dream of a child. . .
a child waiting to grow old.