There’s nothing left for me of days that used to be,
I live in memory among my souvenirs.
Some letters tied with blue, photograph or two,
I see a rose from you among my souvenirs.
A few more tokens rest within my treasure chest,
And though they do their best to give me consolation,
I count them all apart and as the teardrops start,
I find a broken heart among my souvenirs.
