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Dec 2014
Out of all those years of my life, one bright memory stands out
Him tickling me to death and telling me that when he grew up he'd name his daughter after me
the blue skies, innocence, and giggles all around me
and I'd never felt more special or alive
he would come around on his jet black motorcycle, gleaming with care
his bright shiny chestnut brown eyes and short wisps of hair
we were just kids talking about the future like this faraway land only real in our dreams
now I'm here miles away
your eyes aren't the same, there's no traces of hair on your head
in quick glances, i almost see the boy i once knew with life in his eyes, a spark of light
now I'm here miles away
you're in that lifeless town you'd swore you'd leave
you still ride your motorcycle but it's rusty and not well taken care of
you have a daughter now, and I don't know her name
we were kids who grew up too fast
Ghost Writer
Written by
Ghost Writer  NYC
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