Where is that little girl I used to know?
The one that helped me make faces in the half melting snow?
The child that would spend hours on the battered couch with me,
Wasting precious time trying to find our show on TV.
What ever happened to my first
Oh the seconds, minutes, hours we would spend-
all before more devilish
followed by rapid
to your house
on the end of
to find your angry mother,
whom later we'd
secretly laugh at...
So many memories,
Kicking soccer balls,
Washing sand from my eyes,
Ignoring the teacher to
make faces and laugh,
which we then disguised
as coughing so the fun
could carry on,
first, second, third,
and so on.
So many days spent crying over how you left me...
Now, my dear Brooke, I just think of you fondly.
Hopefully the next time I pass you
in the hallway,
you'll lift your head and look at me with those eyes I once adored,
which are now full of such
sadness and worry.
I yearn for those glory days, those beautiful times
I will never get back...
but maybe one day, I'll see a glimpse
of that silly little girl I once loved
who lived at the end
of the cul-de-sac.