Once many summers ago my inner heart began to show
as we sat upon the shore of many, many years before
What I found was sweet and true, but what he found was nothing new.
Just as summer fades for the cold of winter crawling through the door
so too did the love of my l’amour
When we left it on the shore of many, many years before.
His eyes reminded me of a doe, but oh, I wish that I had known
What exactly was in store or that it would affect me to the bone
For as our love died, so too now must the memories of long before
The memories which once sweet change to tormentor
of this friend who once had more
in a summer many, many years before.
Without a doubt there came September,
and at once, I do remember, that our love became an ember
fading into nothing more.
But what I did not realize then, was that the one I did adore
saw me, a friend, and nothing more once we left that lovely shore
so many, many years before.
Sweet words and sweeter promises were made and said
And the thought still fills me with dread
that I allowed myself to fall so deeply for
A boy who could not see me as anything more
than the friends we became upon that shore
of many, many years before.
As we drifted farther apart
I tried to calm the anxieties of my heart
and keep them there forever more.
“I’ll never let him know,” I thought “that he was, in fact, my first l’amour.
Friendship was born upon that shore
only this and nothing more.” I told myself, my heart sore.
Then one day, one dreadful day, he met her
and fell so fast he was a blur.
While once our conversations made my mood soar
they quickly became a terrible chore
and often made the tears pour
to hear of his love for her.
Every story of every date became a story I would hate
And the story of ‘first kiss’ came with a tremendous weight
but the role of best friend was one I was willing to play forevermore
Even though I knew there wasn’t a chance to be anything more
Just to be close to the boy of many, many summers before.
I never let him know how much it hurt to let him go
Because for him, it was nothing more than a summer fling, even so
My friends slowly began to abhor
The boy who broke my heart for sure
once we left the pebbled-shore
of many, many years before.
And slowly they convinced me it would be best to end it once and for all
and so our conversations were rare, if there were any at all.
But every so often I saw in a passing stranger’s eyes once more
the sparkle that I remembered and longed for
but little would these strangers know that despite my flirtations I was heartsore
for the boy of many, many years before.
And just as all young loves do
His true love left him, and I knew
that again would come the false love of before
a shadow of the summer of years before
And so I kept myself away, still a little bit unsure
If he ever felt what I felt that summer on the seashore.
The boy was beautiful as can be
as we walked by the sea
but he never knew and never will, I swore.
Because he never could have just one amour
You see, there wasn’t only me that summer by the sea--
That summer of many, many years before.
So slowly, slowly both of them died
the love and friendship both, all because I lied,
mainly to myself, and said I could ignore
the feelings and memories of long before.
The memories I had of a summer many, many years before.
based loosely on the "formula" that Poe said all good poems were written by. I know it's a tad melodramatic, but a sad, really long poem about the death of something beautiful was what my English teacher wanted. So there it is.