A crowded bar-room, a summers day,
She walks through the light, head held high.
I hold the picture,
An icon of love,
A fount of belief.
We talk for hours of nothing at all.
My heart cries out.
She doesn’t hear the call.
We say goodbye, I walk alone.
Another night in drunken fear,
Of what I don’t know.
Another man holds her hand,
When she walks through the garden.
I sit in shade and let my anger burn,
Holes in the fabric of my heart.
Laughing through the pain, I learn to lie,
Not making a move, chained as I am,
By memories of heartaches long past.