My pen doesn't write anymore It stumbles and trembles in my hand. If Autumn were here, she'd understand. It's funny how we never know exactly how our life will go. It's funny how a dream can fade within the break of a day. I'm not sure where you are now though I see you in my dreams and I hear everyone say "Things are not always what they seem". So I'm often uncertain if you like your new home and when I'm uncertain I write a poem. Time can't erase the memories and time can't bring you home. That time was a part of me and now a part that's gone.