We're not kids anymore, and it's bittersweet.
We've changed; I'm not bitter. I pray you're not.

Along the way, we forget that we have to grow up,
and grow apart.
My mother told me life is ever changing seasons,
Winter isn't Spring, and Fall isn't Summer.

Is it not foolish to wear a fur in the rain,
or a swimsuit in the snow?

Seasons will shift on their own,
and we are nothing but clouds.
It is not so wrong to assume
we were only passing through.