I just want some watery applesauce,
And all the things that came with it.
The joy of being with you,
The fun times,
The good times,
The bad times,
The tough times,
We hiked through together.
Why can't we go back to the simple times,
When we talked about death,
And joked about meth,
And ate that damn good applesauce,
When we cried some tears,
And faced our fears,
Despite the hatred we faced.
Why, my friend, did you have to leave,
Me with these applesauce stained memories?
YOU ARE READING
Jigsaw
PoetryThe wind may blow one way and the river the other. One may take you down a well trodden path, and the other, the less walked one. But both experiences tell a story, and together, they form a whole. Piece by piece, you fit the many stories together...
