People Change.
They grow apart.
And soon enough we'll be strangers.
And you'll think of me as nothing more
Than a fleeting thought;
Once most important.

We'll pass without a spoken word.
Just sideways glances with eyes that never meet.
And a longing for,
Times best forgotten.

Unavoidable.
Like almost everything.
But 'til then, let's just keep holding on,
And try to make the best
Of what time we still have left
Before we start to drift.