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Poetry They kissed for the first time,
Under the big sycamore tree.
Holding hands, they knew it would last forever.
Nothing to show, nothing to hide,
Sitting under the big sycamore tree,
She handed him a note saying,
"I'll love you forever."
He kissed her and took it from her tiny hand,
Placed it into his pocket where it would stay.
But their blossom died
And wilted away into the ache of heartbreak.
She told him that it was time to let go,
Time to end their lovely disarray.
Emotions unwound like a broken cassette,
She would never know what she did to him.
In the graveyard, by the I-95 overpass,
He sat under the sycamore tree where they took each other away.
Broken bottle in hand and tears in his eyes,
He knew he was sick of love's undying suicide.
In the breath of a moment,
He took it all away.
He felt the world give out from under him,
Red and blue lights flashing in his mind.
Among the broken glass on the pavement,
Clutched in his bloody knuckles as he was carried away,
A piece of paper read,
"I'll love you forever."
Good Stuff, I liked it.
Would like to hear it put to music.