The tenth of ten

"Freedom" is another word,
That just comes in my mind.
I still remember you so kind
- You passed me bottle and a smoke
- Your will to dance, your two times poke.

But what is left?
Three years just blown and gone.
Three years - and nobody has won.
The guilt hangs unbearable and heavy.
Did you just want your money back, to levy?

I still remember you so kind,
I still remember me so blind,
I still remember the night in that town.
I still remember you talking and frown.
I still remember you and the play,
Three years
I still remember us with all, but not really gay.


* To write in rhymes makes more and more no sense...