How often will my thoughts go back to you.
How many times will I mourn this loss.
Do the regrets ever go away.
Or am I here, reliving the same day.
It began with excitement and jest.
A new begging with the future, a hope.
The blocks to build, and the houses to stitch, seemed as though this was what life was ment to be.
As time grew on the arguments came.
With shame there was guilt and blame.
But we could still go on late in the night,
And laugh, away was the looming fright.
What happened in the open none could tell.
It seemed so happy, all was well.
But behind closed doors those words to root.
And in a troubled heart, blame, shame, always the same.
A little love at times would be shown.
Only to be taken away by the age old fight.
A mood to be shown each and every day.
Neglecting any love, that at times was shown.
What was wrong, what was right,
the fight would be as bright as night.
The ears would hear alone in tears.
"It's my fault" were the fears.
You see the problem,
and you try to change.
And it seems for a time,
that there is hope.
But then, it ends...
the fears are true!
but of me not you!
My shame, my guilt, my blame.
But you can't go back,
you can't love more.
So instead you remain
with the sadness...mourn.
