Inevitable
Why did we allow ourselves to squander, jettison, forget us?
I ask myself, tonight,
Sitting here, without you, alone, in Westwood's pub,
Where we spent so many evenings —
Just us two, by ourselves, in the crowd.
All I can do is accept that the evitable is now inevitable,
Knowing that you and I will never again exist
In the same time, same place, same soul.
07/26/09 - (2)
|