with every summer’s end,
you lose a dearest friend to the wind.Â
and i cannot remember the voice that sang inside her.Â
i’ll try my best to stay 14 and tucked away, like it was; but i cannot remember a face to paint a picture.Â
and i will never forget you, someway, somehow--a place i feel i never knew.
and i will never forget this; i’d trade my soul for another chance to see it through.Â










