by Focus
© 1999 Focus, all rights reserved
Finals, grades, graduation, goodbye.
Won't see you again until late in July.
Fireworks exploding, lighting the skies.
Soft drizzle wetting my face, filling my eyes.
He walked in the room, he sat in his chair,
He spoke to me, but looked at the air.
"I want a divorce," he quietly said.
This was no surprise, our love rotted dead.
Glad to be done with the waiting and lies.
Afraid of alone. Reviewing the "Why's".
Sad that tenderness fled. Full of anger and rage.
Worry and sorrow. Eager to turn a new page.
Now I am free. I am loose, on my own.
Do I want to giggle? Or do I want to moan?
My heart's in turmoil. Is this really real?
Honestly I don't know, now, quite how I feel.
Finals, grades, graduation, goodbye.
Won't see you again until late in July.
Fireworks exploding, lighting the skies.
Soft drizzle wetting my face, filling my eyes.