I can hear the sweet whisper
  Of your voice,
It smells of whisky and sunshine
  And I float
With drunken bliss as I feel your
  Kiss upon my lips.
That old country road
  We traveled
Ended at our picket fence
  Where we built
Our lives together.
   Young love
Euphoric and rich.
   I see so clearly
Those still summer nights,
   Time was talking
I wish we would have listened then.
   Youth and wisdom…
Contradictory entities that blind the eyes
   Of worldly knowledge.
We see what lies behind us after
   After mistakes are made.
Retrospect is of no use when
   Damage is done.
Now I sit in the car staring down
   That old country road
Past that white picket fence
   Wondering yet again
Where we’d be if only I knew
   What I didn’t know then.

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