you and I have been away

for a while

when we followed those dreams

we had

along that mile

in a city of old

when poetry sang the streets

and actors along curbs rolled

where the air

was clean

thieves unseen

who stole more hearts

than cinnamon jelly beans

and then back

to discover

as we were told

that we must play nice

when we grow old

or we'll be hurt

and we must learn

the Art of war

and love no more

till we find that

one of a kind

and believe the scene

of that long lost dream

and

then

as

the

hilt

reaches

the

chest

bone

we bid adieu

and welcome

that

all

alone