Love is bad

come and go

Well I guess theres naught to say
we used to wile the hours away
in those dark hours of winters grey
and into springtimes brighter day

many days have passed since then
and i cannot remember when
we last talked nor have i ken
of if we’ll ever talk again

reaching out with no reply
watching as the days do fly
left here sadly wondering why
and a twinge of hurt deny

friends may come and quickly go
like the little flakes of snow
wherever the fickle wind does blow
along the crags of the hearts plateau