You are never gone but forgotten,
As if you still glide by my mind,
Every night when I lay to go blind,
And every day to which I awaken,
You never cease keeping me shaken,
As if my desire for something like you,
Is something that is simply in me, imbued,
Certainly and powerfully confused,
And so I held a definite truth,
Destroyed to become a part of an imagination,
Sadly always more-so a fantasy of our youth
Now as we understand,
Plagued by truth,
The magic of naïveness,
Will always be
Gone but never forgotten