13 April 2012
Whistling wind blowing through my damp hair, As I stand with a face far from despair.
Willing and wishing that time would stand still, Hoping, praying you’ll never have your fill.
The waves keep on washing up on the sand, As we stand here hearts throbbing hand in hand.
The sound of a car, I know what the cost, That moment we shared, forever be lost.
Young Expectations • Opuss № I