Summertime

The summer of love,
flys away on dismal day of dismay,
as the dove leaves the war torn ground,
 the piece of me that was peaceful,
 finding that kind part might be harder now you'll fight to bring it out.
the dove never made it out,
 heart dropped out,
did three circles round about,
the sound of screaming,
 indearing searing the memory in the brain,
 the pain comes again,
 the mind finds defenses entrenches,
 behind fences of apathy the path between a no-manfeelings zone,
 these visions their missions decisions of attraction,
distractions the wave of attrition the knave's and wenche's,