You and I both knew, it was never to last,
but the end came so soon, it was all gone so fast,
you deserved angels, singing your praise,
now I question why I still sing it these days.
But I still look at the moon, and remember your face,
and gentle, warm touch, that made my heart race.
You belong in the poetry, of someone else now,
and I'd stop writing like this, if I only knew how.
But before I am gone, I'll make a closing remark,
I'm still in love with the girl, who I kissed in that park