Amongst the broken tomb stones
In a lonely cemetery
I smoked a cigarette
And looked around.
One grave, fresh dug,
Earth piled by the side;
The headstone blank.
Would this be mine?
Born, lived, died,
Forgotten.
Is this how it ends?
Six feet under ground
And rotten.
Difficult to accept
But true.
My chief regret;
I wasted my love
For you.
Threw it aside.
It haunts my living days
And I cannot forget.
I certainly can’t hide.
Still looking for a way through.
That only I can provide
