small town lights

In these years
I've cried the softest tears,
under wrinkled beds
with lifetimes overhead.

In sun baked stone
I've carved the mark of home
and hoped for a solid stand
with his fingers in my hand.

There is
a wind in the trees.
There is a
wind bearing memories.

Step back to Summer Fair,
sugar ribbon in my hair.
Laugh as you pulled away,
nothing could stop that day.

Kissed over blinking lights,
eyes close to blind goodbye.
Curfew was midnight then.
I thought I'd found a friend

in you.

Small towns can never be forgiving.
Seems everyone else does your living.
I've been stolen for too long
But coming back, coming back again

it's wrong.