I Wish I Could Cry

I wish I could cry, sometimes
I’ll think back to fuller times
And if we stand up victims
I can’t decide
The photographs we took together sit inside the frames
In dusty photo books, pressed flowers
We rarely wrote our names
On picnic tables, in history, silently the same
I wish I could cry, sometimes
I’ll think back to fuller times
And if they stand up victims
I won’t decide
In a week from now, you will have been gone for seven days
There is no imptus for sadness, it has to be this way
Progress ventually creates some casualties