I look back in disdain.

Young, carefree, hopeful (she) still had the world in full color

And wrote of (true)(lost) love

As though (she) understood such things

And the older (she) got

The more the world darkened at the edges

Diminished to simpler tones

And I learned how little I knew,

How little I know.

I miss… (maybe just an idea

(She) used to have of)

You.