There are times,
Where I want to sing,
Your name and mine,
Tangled in the same tune,
Dancing with the syllables,
All the notes and nothings,
Around and around,
Into the evening hours,
There are times,
Where I have cried,
Familiar faces on morning news,
Funerals for the friends lost,
Childhood ends far too early,
So many nights forgotten,
Sunday morning service,
Prayers for the wrongs I committed,
In the hours prior,
There are times*,
Where I reflected on the memories,
August took a piece of me,
Everything was full of life,
We never even wondered,
About what would become of us,
In the sunrise that followed.