by Richard Vince

With the crowds dragged away
By Saturday afternoon football,
The park was a quiet place to
Enjoy cheap bottled beer and
Teenage conversations.

Even through topics as dull as
Where to get alcohol without ID,
Her voice spoke to me of
Some fictional world I dreamed
Her into, where life would be
Forever that simple.

In spite of the hurt and
Confusion it brought, that time
Seems uncomplicated to me
Now. If only we knew they were
The best years of our lives
When we were living them.

Her pure, gentle happiness
Was infectious; she made of me
An unwitting idealist, desiring
To share that side of her
Without ever knowing
Why I was warned off.

It is not love if we
Pick and choose; I was
Not to know it then, and so
Felt my heart crack under
The pressure I placed upon it,
The blind determination that
It was real this time.

I did care though. Always.
I would still love to know
Where she is now, and would
Hug her as if the past eight years
Had not happened, and be
Transported once more to
That fictional world of
Endless summer afternoons.


Posted on 01/19/2007
Copyright © 2022 Richard Vince

Member Comments on this Poem
Posted by Amy Niggel on 01/23/07 at 02:47 AM

Makes me long for old friends and carefree days. Very well written. Definately something I can relate to. You're wonderful as always.

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