What happened to the girl I once loved?
I believe she shriveled up inside,
and was left alone to die.
I reached out to grab her,
but she fell.
I hate to think that is what happened,
to such a precious girl.
High hopes, big dreams,
swallowed by the stream.
I like to think she is still alive,
and not just in my dreams.
That precious flower,
a savior, a saint,
is still alive to me.
But will I ever see her again,
or feel her soft, soothing touch?
No.
I will not.
Copyright Barry Pietrantonio