Beneath the willow
A young man sits, wishing past
Would fade at last

To silence his past
Seems but a feverish dream
A distant hope, lost

To blot out these marks
Would cleanse his scarred past of pain
Give a final piece

But what of his loss
Losing the small good times had
Those fleeting moments

A smile, high laughter
Eyes like earth, hiding rare gems
To be with her, love

Beneath the willow
A repentant old man sits
Glad to save those Gems