When you left I could not,
Go to school each morning,
Without a tear,
Memories everywhere,
Your empty, blue locker number 39,
When you said goodbye,
You held me trembling trying not to cry,
I shook,
My body so minute in your embrace,
Two small, salty tears rolled down my ashen cheeks,
You wiped them with your thumbs,
My senses went numb,
Will you be back?
You knew as well as I,
I thought I would die,
Right there on ground but,
You looked down,
At my pleading brown eyes,
You swept that stray hair,
That strand of jet-black hair,
Out of my briny eye,
I kissed you once more,
Love is a chore.
