THE FORGOTTEN
Written May 25, 2004

Paper turning yellow before I blink
or get the chance to write,
The sound of rain is never the same
from when the days were longer
and the sun doesn't shine
like on your silhouette that summer
Dust collects on faces
no one should forget,
but are quick to celebrate their ignorance
words from blue honesty
faded in blank faces
Colours never as bright
as the day they first were heard
Smell of alcohol from someone's youth
never lift from the pages
of your books unwritten
So throw a flower-say a prayer
to save your soul from ageing
I'll keep the wrinkles on her face
and the scratches on the old 45
'Cuz even tho I wasn't there
my soul lived inside those days
you've buried in your mind.

L'amour toujours

~LP