I should have spoken of my better days,
of my head lost in a hazy daze,
of the nights spent dreaming,
of the days lost gazing,
I should have told you of the better times,
of the love that flowed in those climes,
of the heart that radiated with her chimes,
Maybe I should even have stood to you,
to ask from me what you consider due,
I should have gotten it when you said it,
of time's place in the faded touch,
of pain's role in feeding this crunch.
But life, they say, is not,
of what we should have done.
Life, like you, is short,
and am only a spot on your lovely plain.
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