"Come Grow Old with Me
The Best is Yet to Be"
With purple poetry we gush too much
at the fact of leaving, we stoically stand
or shed tears at being long away apart
At promises and future hopes we feverishly clutch
yet we both know we won't stay in touch.
(Unencumbered by words and skin, from raw heart)
I wish you could know how you'd touched me
I guess it wasn't meant to be
To Layne K.