I thought that I might go for a ride
That used to help me clear my mind
As I drove I thought of you
That was usually soothing too
I found myself driving to a place
A location; a mental space
I end up here on nights like these
Steeped in pathos; old memories
Like so many times before
I wound up at this particular door,
Next to a window, empty, alone
From where our lights had previously shone
It's dark inside, you've moved away
I stare at that door, a forgotten stray
When I think back, I can remember a day
A day of snow, skies cloudy and gray
But credit where credit is due,
Most of what I remember is you.
That look in your eyes,
Your hair that brunette hue,
And the conversation we had,
Between just me and you.
You told me I was wrong,
Reiterated your love.
Gave me the shoe
That fit like a glove.
I asked for the proof, as the skeptic I am
But that proof, sadly, is still on the lam.
I told you, "I'm leaving, I told you I would,
If you want me to stay, say why I should."
Your response surprised me,
"What do you want me to say?"
Do I have to tell you?
Say you want me to stay!
I said, "******* nothing." The clock went dead;
It moved again, not a word being said.
While what I said may seem cruelly put,
It also seems the shoe fits the other foot.
An eternity passed in that grain of sand
Now I eat crow for taking my stand
Time has passed, how much, who knows?
But that's how everyone's story goes
This is a poem that I wrote when I was about 22. I don't think it needs much explanation.