By: Charles Wood
It all starts off with a smile
from a pretty girl with a lip piercing.
She looks up at me lovingly;
a friendly, warm gesture
that I vaguely recognize.
Her smile, that smile,
I have seen it before.
She smiled at me,
once upon a time
in a dream.
Her eyes are eyes
that I have looked into for ages.
Her face is the face
that I have touched
in loving adoration.
I have loved this girl,
I see sitting before me.
I have cared for her;
caressed her hand when
her face was touched with tears.
Held her close when she needed comfort.
The melody swells; the music calls,
urges to find the memory.
I get closer with each passing day.
The endless line of faces,
becomes filled with less.
The memories become brighter,
the reality of my time.
With every pretty smile,
from every pretty girl;
I see a memory closer,
I let the thought take hold.
Memories of love,
just dreams of their own accord.
A smile, a kiss,
to always be missed.
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Narration
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gcpnTqr9iQY&feature=plcp
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