The woman to the left of me was dark skinned and had black hair falling upon her face. The woman to the right of me had auburn hair, full lips and a stud in her nose. Each of them much younger than myself and stunning.
There is a river down the road, you can hear it roaring from up here. There is a river down the road, you can hear it roaring from up here. I sometimes wander and wonder if I could make it across to there.
We must look into each others eyes and recognize that we are all made of the same flesh and blood. Different ideology but the same biology. Accept the differences and celebrate them. Listen to each other and the words, emotions and expressions that are being communicated.
Time did not stop for either of them; a year passed and they each filled their time with stuff that life throws at you. For Max it meant drinking too much and sleeping too little. For Sophia it meant working while trying to absorb the Italian culture as much as possible. They each dated other people, thought about each other, began to contact the other and then quickly stopped. The feelings of regret, broken parts, missing each other and what ifs, slowly began to dissipate as time kept on doing it's job as only time can.
A distant siren sounds, a light flicks on and off in apartments above the street lamp. Through a silhouette you can see the occupant pulling off their coat and suddenly a hat and the silhouette reveals it to be a woman. She stands there but I walk on past.
Moon, straight above us, a ray of light, there to guide us...Take my hand - let's walk. Close your eyes, babe, and hold me tight, I am going to guide you home, make you feel alright. My left hand falls from your neck, runs softly down your back...
He was dressed in a black tuxedo, white shirt and black bowtie and vest. His vest was unbuttoned and his collar open. He had dark features; dark hair, eyes and skin; stood at five feet nine inches. He was in his late 20’s. Sophia was dressed in a black gown with a slit from her waist on down. She was around five foot six while wearing a pair of Italian heels. She had dirty blonde hair which fell behind her, dark skin which contrasted perfectly against her green eyes. She was also in her late 20’s and
He was an old man they say - too old to have lived at all. "Was he ever a dreamer, M'am or was he born to die?" Did he ever think about singing or playing ball?
There is also the curve ball, slider, knuckle ball and others which can make the batter look as if he does not belong anywhere near a bat much less a baseball field. But then, magically, the next pitch hangs too long in the air (a microsecond) and the hitter, who just looked incompetent; hits it 450 feet for a home run. One pitch the hitter is a failure, the next he is at the apex of success.