Looking for the lost prophets that seemed to slip right through the sand through the cracks of time…
My thoughts of you bring a warm sensation that I shouldn’t have You’re my Peter Pan, something to fall upon when the real world is null and grey.
I still think of you from time to time and remember how I felt when I’d talk to you for hours and hours About particularly nothing at all, my mind said. But my heart found a reason to be in you And then you went from my little world where the sky was always grey and saw its first glimpse of blue from the light of your eyes, shining into me.
It’s a lonely existence when you think about it, I’m surrounded and isolated all at once. Is there anyone in this world who shares these thoughts that echo in my mind? I still think of you, but why?
You disappeared and came right back So sheepishly, as though I’d never welcome you back into my door, into a dusty house. I kept a spot open for you, and everyday I stared at the empty space that needed to be filled in this quiet house in my quiet mind, that needed someone to reassure me that I’m still human.
I still think of you even though you probably don’t of me. I thought those thoughts when you walked away, and then you saw me. You saw me standing there all alone, trying to fill the spot you left behind they didn’t fit, no one could.
I thought for sure you’d forgotten me, but it was as though I saw the ghost of you. You were just as I remembered, and when I told you of that empty space I tried to fill and that artificial fluff I tried to stuff inside, you told me of all of those nights you stayed up And thought of me. How you’d stare at my letters, all the things I’d given you.
I still think of you, But I hate to think you’ve left a second time, third, fourth, fifth? I lost track when I accepted, that I was going to live this life alone and old, my dear Peter Pan.