Four years and more,
That's how I bore
A love that wasn't wee.

He surely was,
Without a fuss
My sweetest cup of tea.

A lovely man,
I could not ban
He moved so faultlessly.

A little dark,
Yet had no mark
Of cuts, of wounds, or me.

I thought he cared,
Because we shared
Our lives so openly.

Until one day,
As I may say
There's nothing he could see.

But just a girl,
Without a curl
Who loves him constantly.

I just can't stand,
A love that's grand
To end so bitterly.

But now he's gone,
I should move on
And live most earnestly .

So goes again,
The need to mend
A bleeding heart set free.

Although he's still,
And always will
Be in my memory.