My pen doesn't write anymore
It stumbles and trembles in my hand.
If Autumn were here, she'd understand.
It's funny how we never know
exactly how our life will go.
It's funny how a dream can fade
within the break of a day.
I'm not sure where you are now
though I see you in my dreams
and I hear everyone say
"Things are not always what they seem".
So I'm often uncertain
if you like your new home
and when I'm uncertain
I write a poem.
Time can't erase the memories
and time can't bring you home.
That time was a part of me
and now a part that's gone.