A gentle tug of your memory
I see your eyes that stare at me.
You try to pinpoint where we met,
but you have not remembered yet.
It was a time not too long past
the memory comes, but fades too fast.
And so you shrug and shake my hand
my expression you donít understand.
For my memory of you did not fade
I remember well the games you played.
With the emotions of a younger me
embedded in my memory.
I was young and so naive
so quick to trust and to believe.
That you the worldly man you are
would hold my hand and take me far.
But I was just another notch,
upon your sheets a crimson blotch.
Itís the only thing I left behind.
No compassion in your eyes I find.
The elfin blonde who holds your arm
does not realize the potential harm.
That you will have upon her heart
another notch, then you will part.
A knowing smile lights my eyes
for I have just now realized.
That you are not a man at all
just a little boy, extremely small.
For real men it is understood
they need not collect maidenhood.
A real man would not take pleasure
in stealing a young girls only treasure.
Never forget what is worth remembering or remember what is best forgotten.