Surrounded by people
you are silent
In a crowded room
you are alone
You are hardly
the boy I know
Not quite the same as the boy who
walked down the street with me
You are cold and distant
not the playful guy
who surprises me from behind
The boy who tickled me the other day
is gone
replaced by a stranger
A tired, worn soul
The hand I used to hold
is slightly out of reach
No comments:
Post a Comment