4 years pass and I still find myself dreaming of you.
Your eyes are the sky and your chocolate brown hair is soft as the clouds.
You left me for her, a girl with mirth and shiny blonde hair.
She became your sun, her warmth something you craved to hold.
And I, the earth below, like my hazel eyes and red-brown hair.

Isn't it ironic? The earth looks up, reaching for the sky, while the sky reaches further away for the sun's warmth.

But my relationship with my sky is still connected,
as even while he reaches for the sun,
I catch his raining tears and hold them dearly,
letting his feelings wash over me.
I give him the air and colorful world to look down upon,
to cheer him up and dry his tears.

It hurts when the sky then reaches again for the sun,
seen again as his clouds move from his face,
and blesses her with pleasantries of drying his tears with her warmth.
And the earth watches sadly in vain,
catching the sun's lingering rays in hopes to borrow her warmth
and reach the sky she so dearly loves.

But when the sun sets, resting till morn,
The sky and the earth converse in a dark chatter,
Cooling and calming together.

This time we have,
a time I cherish.
The sun is gone, and I the earth, can feel the sky hug me in return, and in wait.
And even though at certain hours, the sun returns and showers her warmth,
the earth will always be below, lying in wait,
and sending the moon to light the darkness,
the hopeful friendship of a wilting flower refusing to die,
watered by the tears of a lover lost to the sun.

Time will pass and the earth will never stop hoping
for the roles to reverse,
for the sun to reach it's warmth to the sky,
while the sky reaches its expanse of blue and cool, shady clouds
back to the earth that forever loves him,
causing beautiful meadows to bloom in the process.