There's a lot I wish
I could accidentally spill them every time--
On chalkboards, on papers,
On everywhere I could write.
Misses and regrets,
My heart is about to explode
My saving grace,
Where art thou?
A time machine
It's what I wish
Bring me back to when
My moments, my memories I could relive.
Past--
Yes, there's nothing I could do to it
Can't revive, what's past is past
I have to turn around, say my goodbye.
Jan 15, 2014
Jan 15, 2014 at 12:37 AM UTC
There's a lot I wish
I could accidentally spill them every time--
On chalkboards, on papers,
On everywhere I could write.
Misses and regrets,
My heart is about to explode
My saving grace,
Where art thou?
A time machine
It's what I wish
Bring me back to when
My moments, my memories I could relive.
Past--
Yes, there's nothing I could do to it
Can't revive, what's past is past
I have to turn around, say my goodbye.
This is dedicated to whoever wrote a poem I saw written on the chalkboard of our classroom.
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