Torn Out Pages

We had passion, but we never set it free.
We kept it stored away, like a fine wine
being saved for a special occasion.

You had dreams and hopes that I
refused to stand in the way of.
So off to Europe you went, touring
the country with your beautiful voice.

I stayed behind and put you in an
album full of memories, hoping to
bury the past in a moment by
tearing out the pages.

We were great together, with my low
voice, and your powerful tenor notes.
People thought we were a couple "in love."
They secretly hoped we would get married.

I loved you so much that it made me
sore inside, with a pulsating ache
in a heart that was already broken.
Deep down I knew we would never
be together.

And now I pull out the album of
you and me, and I dust off these torn
out pages with with regret.
We had passion, but we never let it live.