Tongue and Pen

For all sad words of tongue and pen, The saddest are these, It might have been.
We’re not the same, dear, as we used to be.The seasons have changed and so have we.There was little we could say, and even less we could doTo stop the ice from getting thinner under me and you.We bury our love in the wintery graveA lump in the snow was all that remained.But we stayed by its side as the days turned to weeksAnd the ice kept getting thinner with every word that we’d speak.And when spring arrivedWe were taken by surprise when the floes under our feet bled into the seaAnd nothing was left for you and me.

We’re not the same, dear, as we used to be.
The seasons have changed and so have we.
There was little we could say, and even less we could do
To stop the ice from getting thinner under me and you.

We bury our love in the wintery grave
A lump in the snow was all that remained.
But we stayed by its side as the days turned to weeks
And the ice kept getting thinner with every word that we’d speak.

And when spring arrived
We were taken by surprise when the floes under our feet bled into the sea
And nothing was left for you and me.

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