December 31, 2015
Maybe she was right.
That rent-a-gypsy years ago.
The one in the middle of the open lawn,
who told us our futures would be the same.
The one we blew off as a fraud because we were so different.
Were.
Maybe she really did see into the future.
Saw that we would get older together,
grow closer together.
Share hobbies together,
smoke cigarettes together,
pick up each other's quirky sayings,
and grow tired of each other.
Maybe she predicted we would grow apart.
She must have seen our frustration in her crystal ball.
The lines on our hands revealed anger and jealousy.
Maybe she saw our futures would be the same...
each without the other.
Maybe we were wrong.
Jan 29, 2016
Jan 29, 2016 at 1:17 PM UTC
December 31, 2015
Maybe she was right.
That rent-a-gypsy years ago.
The one in the middle of the open lawn,
who told us our futures would be the same.
The one we blew off as a fraud because we were so different.
Were.
Maybe she really did see into the future.
Saw that we would get older together,
grow closer together.
Share hobbies together,
smoke cigarettes together,
pick up each other's quirky sayings,
and grow tired of each other.
Maybe she predicted we would grow apart.
She must have seen our frustration in her crystal ball.
The lines on our hands revealed anger and jealousy.
Maybe she saw our futures would be the same...
each without the other.
Maybe we were wrong.
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