There was a girl once, Fate doesn’t care but Wendy was her name. It doesn’t make the craft paper mache stick together anymore in my dreams.
We were ready to0 double. Double the trouble. Then we were torn apart before we could really start.
There was too much trouble in my part of town. Others were my downfall.
Apparently. I just moved and made no trouble, eager to please a monster in a new town with new girls and boys none like before. It wasn’t fair. Until my forties, I never wrote about it. But it sure had made me crazy. But I’m the same boy from before.
Now I have revisited those memories and it still tastes bitter, the truncated memory. And I wonder… Does anyone care. It would have made a difference in my life if we had made it. I wonder If I had cried would they have listened but I had used up all my tears trying to rescue low flying aeroplanes.
Now alone at last, I play the record again and sing alone, maybe I can recreate the tune.
And make up with the past a different ending and memories just like I tried to do
so many years ago.