You pierced my slumber with your smile,
your brief presence reminded me it's been a while,
you got a style, a unique flair,
inimitable, quite rare.

You were a punk,
I had my way.
We painted a story,
in a world so grey.

You hung the plaid jacket,
gave up on heavy boots and spiky belt.
Now I see you dressed like that,
reminding me of how I felt.

You were laughing at my baggy jeans,
saying at least two people could fit in.
We stood on the edge of two cultures.
By all means,
it was all about what's within.

You would find it amusing,
knowing I remember lyrics from your favourite songs.
Wonder if you remember mine.
When my heart longs,
I play them from time to time.

In an attempt to remember the bad,
I fail so good.
No resentment, no bitterness at all.
From the broken memories, your love is all I recall.

You remember?
That bleak October, even the skies were crying.
You didn't pick up the phone,
your friend said you wanted to be alone.
Looking for you seemed at least worth trying.
So I took my bike and went in to the rain,
determined to find you.
I kept calling to no avail,
cruising the streets like a lunatic.
She finally broke the veil,
I shall find you by the creek.

And there you are, in a distance,
wearing your rebel clothes.
The only colour in that bleak land of sorrow
clouds pouring tears of despair,
the wind permeating the scene with wail of grey.

I approached, not a glance, not a word.
A vague memory eluding expression.
Next, I am holding your hand in a hall,
you lean on for a kiss.
I am to blame for the call,
knowing you're the girl I'm gonna miss.

"It was beautiful"