Her voice echoes in my mind,
I can feel the happiness gone.
The tears fall as I remember
the smiles upon our faces.
The trust of such a friendship,
gone within minutes. . .
Her choice or mine?
As of now it's both. . .
We've had our chance
to work things out.
But, how can you love
without trust.
How can you enjoy
each day with
fear of the lost.
It's harder than she knows,
the days I remember her most. . .
Are the days like this,
where the sun shines,
the grass is so green,
and the birds, well the birds,
they're back for spring,
ready to listen to us sing.
But, this year,
just as the past few
the only singing t
hey'll hear is the
whisper of the wind.
