A poem #2

your hands were shaking

when we first met

and you felt the urge

to light up that cigarette

but you never did

even though you should

all because you knew 

I could hate smoking too

and there we were one night 

with some good old friends along

you were listening

I was singing a song

your eyes seemed sad

but you said nothing's wrong

I'm sure as 'ell

back then nothing was well

when we met again

you sat beneath the tree

your sad hand held mine

your eyes were looking at me

and that's when I knew

and sisters stars did too

the only sad things I've ever loved

were summer rain and you