I once knew a man who hid in his coat A frayed piece of parchment about a century old When I asked what it was, he looked down with a smile And said it was a gift from when he stopped being a child.
"Because," he added, "we've never grown up Until we have tasted the bitterness of love." With that he grinned, waved good-bye, And left me in a cluttered state of mind.
Three days later, when the man breathed his last, Passed down to me was the gift from his past. Guess what I found when I unfolded the paper? None other than a faded love letter.
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