Remember the way the leaves used to crumble between the spokes of our tires?
The exciting monotony of that broken pavement
The stories, the races,
and now,
Just the few paces
That separate us.
For our world is the same,
Yet so different from those years ago
Where life let our happiness flow.

They say to
write what you know
but I'm just so
sick of
tragedies

I wear a scarf
                  to keep my words warm.
So you will smile when
                     they smack you in the face.