We were both foolishly young
Thinking time would live on
Dreaming all about us
And like that you were gone
How stupid was I to be
Thinking of you at night
To ponder situations
Where I made it all right
A hormone filled child
Playing the same game
That's all it really was
For now, just the same
YOU ARE READING
Lost Letters
PoesíaLost letters that will never make it to you. (In a weird editing process, please bear with it)
