By Lady Jira

Running through the pouring rain,
Heading toward the moving plane
Taking her away

He's not proud of what he's done
He realized she was "the One"
Not sure what to say

It's too late, the plane is gone,
He's cold, he's wet and alone,
Despair gnaws at his heart.

A whispered voice did softly say
That she never went away
She did not depart.

Still afraid to turn around,
He sees the plane has left the ground,
Its too much to believe.

A gentle hand, his shoulder, touched,
"It seems I loved a bit too much,
I just couldn't leave."

copyright 1999