She was a girl called Chowder,
Hopes hanging on her heart
And roses in her window.
Written up to as much as she thought she was,
She let go,
Let the blows take her back to the
Days on the beach--
The lake.
Her age too young,
But too confident to see
An impending reality
Of ultimate misery.
Every night she puts her feelings away
And every day she unpacks them again--
Hanging the hopes on her heart
And the roses in her window.
Claiming what she had
She dreamed,
She flew!
Like a bird she was away
Where the cold no longer persisted,
Away from where he hunted.
Out alone she breathed heavy,
Ready to start afresh,
Winning hearts yet wondering why,
And downing more drafts than healthy.
Again she enters into the memory
A kiss
On the beach
At the lake.

Chowder--
Return not to the past you dreamt of leaving. Enter into the future with hopes hanging on your heart. **** the rips he caused on your heart. Water the roses in the open dimmed window. Heap a load of joys in your life. Claim what is yours and what was never his.

           Chowder--
                   Take your wings and fly.