Locks of raven have tumbled far,
Down slender and pale grafts.
Swinging as your full lips part
And say it's not me you love.
But the seventeen year-old
That I use to be.
Locks and lips, not mine to touch.
And I say goodbye to that, to that at last.
Because I am not seventeen anymore,
I have become a man. And you are
A woman I cannot love.
