Lost

Fool was I not to accept the signs,
Not to know that nothing was the same,
To have thought that nothing would change;
Fool was I not to change with the change.

I read the signs, and I smelt the change,

But, when she called, I went-
Like moth to a fire;
Knowing, nothing was the same any more.

She was not a lil’ girl any more;
Grown had she, a woman by any measure;
Matured had she, to become a wife;
Ignored, the cry to remain a girl.

Two tears I shed, for a friend lost,
And smiled for what she gained.
And I promised myself-

These are my last tears for her,
Knowing, that it wouldn’t be.

These are the last tears for any friend,

Knowing, that it wouldn't be.