Sometimes just for nostalgia,
I re-read the poems of the past.
You wrote with such conviction,
And a hope which did not last.
But just to see those words again,
Makes my world again so clear.
Filled with courage, without doubt,
The days of yesteryear.
When all the "black and white" of it,
The search for a perfect tree,
"Trouble" in all it's glory,
Meant everything to me.
And though I no longer speak it,
And all hope is gone it seems,
Believe me, not one day goes by,
When you aren't in my dreams.