I erased my slate of dust
Of stories of our past
The smog filled the air around
I waved my hand through it fast
Sunday nights at the park
The wind blowing through our hair
Watching the moon shine above
We used to walk without a care.
The countless pictures you took of me
The messages I re-read and saved
The yellow polka dot you loved me in
Your smelly jacket that I craved.
The times we bunked literature classes
And ran away to the beach
We drew our names side by side
On the wet sand with our feet.
These dusty memories screamed of you
Your skin, your words, your smell
But now i have a new chalk in hand
To doodle new stories to tell.
TO A ROCKING 2012
-SAM B
| Nothing less than family. Tonkaburo ar moushumi mashi, 2012 :) |