As written by the eyes of friends,
as the broken toy our glue mends,
warning signs, it all aligns
perfectly.
Obviously,
words you said, you meant,
as needles, pinches, letters sent,
ripped apart by unclean hands.
We stared into darkness
wishing there were lights
deluded by our sights,
took steps in bismal directions.
We'll fade as our connections,
receive returned letters untouched.
As the time we dreaded, clutched,
we chase,
hoping it would not escape,
hoping it would show its face.
Embracing the lessons learned,
I've lost my will to be concerned