The Passions Of Yesterday

Why must I always long for the past;
cannot my loves forever dwell?
Passions should be destined to last;
not cast into a memory hell.

Love is a fog; a memory, I’ve missed;
within me; it dwelt one day;
remembering when we passionately kissed;
oh, for the passions of yesterday.

Oh my dear love; could you not stay;
was there another place to be;
you were my passions of yesterday;
of memory, I’ll never be free;

Others say, “What about tomorrow?”
but tomorrow may never be;
lost love brings anguish and sorrow;
more than a mind can see.

No love could ever turn into indifference;
especially love; with God’s annointment;
sometimes love can become vociferant;
once lost; love becomes disappointment.

I long for those passions of yesterday;
it was our day to laugh and cry;
our love is destined to return someday;
true love isn’t destined to die.

Love is a fog; a memory, I’ve missed;
within me; it dwelt one day;
remembering when we passionately kissed;
oh, for the passions of yesterday.

Monty 12/29/24. # 2,542