Your hair is a bit longer now
Than it was last time I saw you,
But your smile feels the same,
Even though I don't see it
Face on any more.

As I recall that couple of glances,
Stolen as I passed the shop window,
I realise that I don't even hear
About you any more. It feels like
You've returned to being one of
Those people whose life makes
No apparent difference to mine.

And yet, every second, you affect me
With this dull ache in my soul,
And the memory of the good friend
You once were to me.

It's like a delayed reaction.
The numbness after the initial smarting
Has now been torn away, leaving
This open wound whose pain
Defies me to forget you.

But how could I forget a friend
Who vanished as rapidly as
She stormed into my life?

I swore that there would never be
People whose names I did not like
To hear mentioned, but now
I always dread the prospect of
You coming up in conversation.

So, instead of telling my friends
About you like I used to,
I write about you. Not with wonder
Or adoration as once I did,
But with bitterness and pain.

One thing that bothers me, though,
Is that the love is still there.
I suppose some things will never change.

01/05/2003

Posted on 01/05/2003
Copyright © 2025 Richard Vince