Neat and Clean. . .

. . . we vowed to make our separation. Never mean or condescending recitation. I fought so long and so hard with these feelings inside of me. And you were the last one that I thought again I would ever see. My fortress, strong and tall, has taken its first hit and its beginning to fall. Now the walls come tumbling down; the pieces crashing to the ground; just like the pieces of my broken heart. Now the walls come tumbling down and when they do they make one deafening sound. Just like your footsteps on the floor. Just like the slamming of the door behind you.

Peachy keen was not the color of the picture. Love just seemed to slip away, no more the fixture. Coming to grips with reality wasn't an easy affair. And seeing your face once again made me wonder if you still care. This barricade of mine is crumbling from the front and just as well from behind. And the walls come tumbling down; the pieces crashing to the ground; just like the pieces of my broken heart. Now the walls come tumbling down and when they do they make one deafening sound. Just like your footsteps on the floor. Just like the slamming of the door behind you.

Just like your footsteps on the floor. Just like the slamming of the door behind you.

©1994 Raymond M. Jozwiak
TUMBLING DOWN




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