Toys in the Attic
GEORGE W. DUNING
A time for memories returning,
A time for heartache and yearning,
Shades of blue, crowding through,
as I sit here remembering you.
A time for wondering what happened,
for wondering why did it happen.
No goodbye, not a sigh,
How could love slip away and just dye.
I thought that you, the night, the summertime
were out of sight and out of mind.
Yet here you are the night, the summertime
still in my heart, I was blind.
A time for memories returning,
with too much heartache and yearning,
so I better store these dreams away,
Like broken toys in the attic the memories
of my yesterdays
