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Young Love
September 7, 2010
A single red rose gliding to the ground,
Tears and laughs from the air do resound,
Moaning and groaning and cries from above,
Music reaches out, hand in hand, young love,
“It’s nothing,” he said giving me a smile,
The music reaches out, we sit a while,
He winks and he blinks, the music goes on,
Suddenly, oh suddenly, screech we’re gone,
Bright light illuminates and wheels turn quick,
Oil from carrier makes surface slick,
The two young lovers are things of the past,
As car horns bleep and flames lick hard and fast,
“All stand,” vicar orders, sighing in woe,
The urn is lowered down, young love, deaths foe.
© Chris C., Pequannock, NJ
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