Start writing your story
You say you know what I like, what I love, what I hate.
You know what I want for Christmas, and my birthday.
But do you know all my dreams, my aspirations, my goals?
Do you know of the fears that live deep in my soul?
Can you count all the times I opened my mouth to speak,
only to find that my voice was too weak?
Can you point on a map to the places I used to love?
The ones far, far away that I managed to shove
away, away, away from my guarded heart.
The ones from which before, I had never wanted to part.
I don't know what you know,
I don't know what you understand.
But I do know that knowing is like grasping onto sand.
You try, and you try, and you try, as you must.
But it all slips through your fingers,
and blows away like dust.
As times have changed around us, we have changed too.
And no matter what we wish for, it's what we have to do.
Back when we were younger,
those many years ago,
we could play pretend and climb the trees,
and yes, we used to know.
We knew about each other, and ourselves too.
Back when fenced in minds, sewed up lips, and guarded hearts were all taboo.
Playing and laughing, no troubled minds to be found,
and helping hands seemed to linger all around.
Things are different now, for better and for worse.
I find that when we talk, the words seem to be rehearsed.
So stay with me a minute,
so we can reminisce,
over all the good times that we had
which will be forever missed.
If we could turn back time - oh how I wish we could,
I would lay there, just lay there, and think
"Oh, life is good."
