She said she loved me as a friend,
That she still cared for me.
But now the mail and messages,
Are few and far between.

Is it she fears I'm still in love,
And that for her I pine?
Thinking that by letting be,
She's only being kind?

We were good friends before we fell,
Just spoke of ev'rything,
Of art and beauty, poetry,
The gifts of life, the stings.

Yes life goes on, she has her own,
As I am leading mine.
So many things to do each day,
So very little time.

I hope someday that she will see,
This shouldn't have to end.
So we may chat from time to time,
A message, friend to friend.