It was the summer of possibilities
of hopes that filled the heart,
of dreams that strained to come true,
of joy that was smug and proud.

Youth can be foolish, I knew not then,
invincibility a mirage, I knew not then,
hopes, frail,a dried leaf, I knew not then,
broken I was when ended that summer.

It was the summer of pain and loss,
of pieces of me mixed with sweat,
of nursing a broken heart and penning
songs of betrayal and disbelief.

Those long afternoons, friends and guitar,
The sweet lemonade ma made,
did little to wipe off the bitterness,
A friend that had come to stay.

It was the summer I grew up
when naive me I buried and let go
When I stopped believing in hopes
and started trusting the darkness.
A foe was that summer and yet
t’was a summer to remember.