The one who got away.

I wrote poetry because of you.
I write poetry because of you.
In pain and love, hearts torn in four;
And past the plains of time itself,
However far, the nights implore
Of a time of just us two.

Another life, another time.
I could not understand the rhyme.
Though paths were crossed and then unwind,
Until the world is now between us.
Life has come now between us.

And every day I never dwell
Until the whisper of the past
Fleets softly by my wandering ear
Until I feel familiar caress
Of a time that I once knew;
A time when there was me and you.

And then my heart flutters in pain
Until I forget it all again.
A memory now just long since past
In the shape of bruises, maimed to last.