A Sight

It would have been a sight to behold The sight of the purest of whites The borrowed, the new, and the old Pictures and flashes of lights

The vision of you in white Lays tainted by the tears I cried And love grows blight If only it was I by your side

Oh what a sight it would have been, The sight of family and friends The grand piano and violins But now I must contend

For this is how the vision ends