As white as snow, the canvas awaits,
The artist’s tale obscure.
Pencil strokes, a story to be told of a love so short but true.

A church in sight, a street so void,
Down the hill goes a girl in white.
A church girl’s gaze so full of grace,
At a glimpse of me, she became reserved.
A cute church girl, that’s what she is.

A load she carried with stress and strength,
As a gentleman at heart, my hand extends.
A smile is seen as we both journey Up and down the hill, our hearts content.

Greetings and pleasantries we exchanged,
A number for another, a call to be made.

Days of calls,
weeks of messages, With love and care, connecting souls beyond compare.

Duty calls, away I would go,
So sudden, so sad, a gloomy day I know.
Echoes of pain, only my heart knows,
Apart from my love, there I go.

The canvas is filled with strokes of our love,
I look at my masterpiece, oh what pain I feel.
My story of love, a memory indeed.
"My love, so long, I hope you are happy”.
My pencil down, a tale of my teenage love.
© Seamless