April
Days bathed in red
I saw her standing
By the riverbed
Weeping willow
I should have been more careful
Waxing hope in cruelest April
I thought that we were there
Somehow I'll always love her
Shedding, golden leaved September
I thought that we were there
Dazed, she never smiles
Like she used to
All the while
Weeping willow
Writer/s: ANDREW JAMES SHERRIFF
