Syracuse Poem by Barry Van Allen

That day long past,
was overcast,
the snow made white the ground,
that silent city held no pity,
for feelings underground.

I sat there in that quiet,
thinking dreams of her,
the life we had,
mistakes we made,
within a sober blur.

I told myself to do it right,
to give her all of me,
because in that town without her,
it was easier to see.

I vowed to love her better,
I prayed I was in time,
so there I sat without her,
I now understood my crimes.

The days grew ever longer,
my convictions ever stronger,
perhaps my friend was right,
when he said the other night,
that I must change and rearrange,
if I am going to win this fight.

The journey home was positive,
my feelings now correct,
but, when I got home,
I came to know ,
the results of my neglect.