There is a tale I wish to share
Bout teenaged feelings, love and care
There was a girl of but fifteen
He was a boy of just eighteen
Each Sunday sharing the church pew
Who can decide what each one knew ?
What was it they were thinking of
Because quite soon it looked like love
Though young and silly girls may be
Assured were both she cared for he
He was a lad, handsome and tall
In every way, he seemed her all.
On Sunday morn, dad passed the plate
She taught a class, they walked home late
Along the Boulevard they’d chat
They walked and talked of this and that
Soon the young man was her best friend
Perhaps with each their lives they’d spend.
Now at this time the world was sick
Young men fought wars in battles thick
That was the year her daddy died
When she felt so alone inside
So many issues war creates
Among those most when faith abates.
How could they know before that day
The war would filch their love away
Of all events that I have seen
And all the places I have been
Too precious now those days bygone
That their first love was based upon.
So sad the pain that war does bring
As all their dreams took flight and wing
Thus never to return that way
Not then or any other day
Too bad this story has no end
No memory nor any friend !
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