The Bard

THE HOUR IS LATE IN THE DARK OF THE NIGHT,
I SIT NEAR A LAMP, BEGINNING TO WRITE...
OF HUMOR AND LOVE, OF HARDSHIP AND PAIN.
SOME WORDS COME EASY, FOR OTHERS I STRAIN, 
SOME THINGS I TELL, WHILE SECRETS I KEEP.

WE STARTED AS FRIENDS, AND THEN THERE WAS MORE,
YOU MADE ME RICH, WHEN YET I WAS POOR...
THE MEMORIES LAST, ALTHOUGH PHOTOS FADE,
I TRAVELED, MOVED ON, WHEN I SHOULD HAVE STAYED.
SPREADING MY WINGS, I FLEW FROM OUR NEST,
SO OFTEN WE SEARCH, IGNORING THE BEST.

LIFE MOVES ALONG, NO MORE DO I ROAM,
I HARDLY EXISTS, NOR LIVE IN MY HOME,
LIVING IN MEMORIES, WHAT ELSE CAN THERE BE?
BASKING IN YESTERDAYS, AND YOUR LOVE FOR ME,
THE HOUR IS LATE IN THE DARK OF THE NIGHT,
I SIT NEAR A LAMP, BEGINNING TO WRITE...

Created: October 29, 1999r.
Last Updated: November 7, 1999r.