He's done after so little shared,
and now she knows that he never cared.
After days of crying she has realized
it was a game she lost and she now pays the price.
All that we could have been but never will be.
She whispers as she remembers the latest nice memory.
His perfume, his electric guitar, his cigarette smell;
the perfect combination that got her under a spell.
The worn out black leather jacket soft to the touch,
she wishes to hug, to keep it forever, a craving clutch.
Without explanation he suddenly disappeared
leaving her alone, all she, from the beginning, feared.
I will never love, I will never trust.
I will be careful even when it's just lust.
Will it get better? She doesn't know.
She will never admit that it felt like true love.
Unworthy person, a player, a bane.
But it will pass and she will try again.
