First Love

Its been way too long, and far too few, the long nights I spent in your bed. When passions ran strong, and our acts bore no wrong, making love through the night unabated. It’s a long way, from there to today; as I sit by myself in a chair. When each night is long, and the breeze brings no songs then there’s nothing but hope and despair. Now that you’re gone, I’ve tried to move on. Don’t jump at each ding from my phone. Though passions ran strong, and our acts bore no wrong Still I sit in this chair all alone.