Way back then,
it all made sense;
my heart was sure
and not on the fence
The poem it rhymed
the song was in tune,
and the sun it smiled
on early June
Now it's gone
and I don't know why;
yet I still love her
and I have to try
On the ceiling,
I'll paint a sun,
and my painful worries
I'll keep within
Hope's not broke,
but it has worn thin
