Lost Generation

Every time we have to say goodbye,
I fear a tear will come to my eye;
Never materializing and I wonder why,
Away we go along the by and by.

Knowing it is just a matter of time,
Our moments shared rise up sublime;
My ears refuse to hear the chime,
The hour of adieu is such a crime.

Nevertheless I manage quite a smile,
Anticipating more moments that will beguile;
Not made easy this waiting for it does rile,
As senses come tangling in mismatched style.

While waiting to enjoy another go-round,
Of a sharing friendship we both are bound;
Sometimes knowing each other without a sound,
A lost generation - misplaced, but only to be found.

In another time, perhaps in another place,
Then we can come and go at our own sweet pace;
Vanishing from the here and now without a trace,
Strolling along the Seine with our beauty and grace.