by Michele Fry, © 1966
(Teen girl's angst on the loss of a first serious crush, gracious
me, seems it was almost as bad as an actual breakup!!)
Oh my heart, please hear me!
Won’t you listen to my plea?
Miami shores are gone now
and the pounding of the sea
is far behind you.
That stretch of sand.
His warm, soft hands
Please understand.
You’ll burst if you relive
each little word that passed between us
from the first “How do you do.”
until the last resounding echo
of a sigh.
No, please don’t cry again.
Don’t cry.
Just say goodbye.
The beauty of his smile, his glance,
the way he held his glass.
The moments shared between us
that seem to last and last –
they’re in the past.
Don’t feel outcast.
They never last.
Let go your grasp.
You’ll be our life’s destruction
if you dwell upon the past.
My heartbeat!
Can’t I reach you?
You are throbbing even faster
than before.
I underscore –
give up those distant shores!
There’ll be another chance,
Another love will come our way.
Til then we have to live,
to make a bridge,
to find a way.
We must portray
some solidarity.
A half a smile to mask our pain
is better than a frown.
We owe it to our friends
to be heroic, not a clown.
But I can’t muster half of that
without support from you.
We are a team.
We share one theme.
Our self-esteem’s at stake!
My way is the only way . . . . . Ah,
won’t you hear me through?
I fight with all that’s in me
but as usual you defeat me
by a mile.
I’m in exile.
Please reconcile.
Okay, we’ll rest her in the dark again awhile
Condemned by fate, I’m bound with you
to drown in lost love’s pain
for reasoning alone is not enough.
It can’t sustain
the
will to live,
the
will to give.
The
heart’s the source
of all our incentive.
