Where did they go?
The
      Sunday morning cuddles
      midnight car rides
      stand-on-your-feet dances
      you-and-me camping trips on the beach
      tennis games that you let me win
      Scrabble games that you didn’t
      smiles that were just for me
      secrets that were just for the both of us.

You say that you’re getting old, and it’s true
But why are you growing old on the inside too?

Categories: Zebraling Days [t], Family Matters [t]

Really James... i honestly hate this poem. It makes me feel... nervous, scared, overwhelmed. It reminds me of the passing of time and that things never stay the same no matter how good they are. But what I hate the most about this poem is the fact that it was written by you; someone I know. And I hate that a real person can make me feel the way you have...
» CONDESCENDme on 2005-09-04 08:55:49

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