Sitting On the Bed's Edge

Sitting on the bed's edge filled with regret,

Knowing the path's end in spite of my love;

She knew it too, but wouldn't say it yet,

We'd hold on longer, we were fools enough.

From the TV came "there's a place for us,"

And the song was sowed in my hurting heart;

Though not here - now, "somewhere a place for us,"

I let that assuring thought have its start.

The foreboding of that sad night proved true,

It took years then found a disastrous end,

Leaving broken hearts as its residue,

Lasting damage that time can't heal or mend.

I still wonder if such a place exists

Or if it's only the song that persists.

September 2014