Let go of the past, live in the present – Balogh Olívia versei

Sunshine and Midnight

I let you go with trembling hands,
Five years of love, now shifting sands.
I whispered goodbye to all we were,
And taught my heart not to return.

Then you came back, fate’s cruel game,
Just when I’d barely buried your name.
Your eyes met mine, then looked away –
Love had faded, slipped astray.

And then at midnight, the phone softly rings,
A voice I know still means all things:
„I got your messages, all seventy-five.
I love your brown eyes,” slurred and low –
Like a ghost that won’t let go.

Oh, how I ached to turn back time,
To hear you say you’re still all mine.
„Sunshine,” you called me, days so bright,
Because I chased the sun, the light.

But now I stand in endless shade,
A heart that loved, a love that stayed.
If I could be your „Sunshine,” still –
Would you meet me where time stands still?

Fading Echoes

The phone glowed softly in the night,
Your name—a ghost—burned far too bright.
„Meet me where we used to be,”
A whispered plea, a mystery.

Why now, after all this time?
When I let go, your hand reached for mine.
You left me there—empty and cold,
So why knock now on doors long closed?

Yet there I stood in moonlight’s haze,
Our secret place, your longing gaze.
No words were said, no time to speak,
You kissed me slow—my knees went weak.

Then softly, as the stars looked on,
„Will you be my Sunshine, dawn to dawn?”
Your voice—a song I used to know,
A dream I’d begged to let me go.

I touched your face, then shook my head,
„Not anymore” was all I said.
For love should not arrive too late,
When hearts have learned to close their gates.

Too Late for Love

You took my hand, your grip so tight,
Eyes full of moonlight, lost in night.
„Please don’t go,” you said, unsteady,
„I was blind before—but now I’m ready.”

Your fingers trembled, holding on,
As if love could bloom where it was gone.
As if the silence of all those years
Could wipe away the pain and tears.

I closed my eyes, drew in the air,
Felt the weight of love not there.
„I’m sorry,” I whispered, soft and true,
„But my heart belongs to someone new.”

Your face went pale, your breath fell slow,
A storm of words you couldn’t throw.
„Do you love him—more than me?”
Your voice a crack, a broken plea.

I met your gaze, no room for doubt.
„Yes,” I said, then shut you out.
I walked away; the night was cold—
Never looked back. Left tales untold.

Balogh Olívia,
Mihai Eminescu Főgimnázium,
9. I osztály