The path way was my yellow brick road
The picnic table was my emerald city
The boy with his nose in a book was my wizard
The gift he gave me was his judgement less stares and his forever listening ear
Maybe I was to young
Maybe I was to dumb
Maybe I wasent brave enough
Maybe I wasent pretty enough
Maybe you just saw me as a silly girl
Maybe you just were to busy with that maze of a book
But that summer will forever be my what if
What if I had been older
What if I had been braver
What if I had snatched that book away
What if I had occupied your brain the way that book did
What if I had stolen those lips between bites of concentration
What if I had snatched your finger tips between page flips
Maybe thing would be different
Maybe things would be better
May 17, 2014
May 17, 2014 at 10:24 PM UTC
The path way was my yellow brick road
The picnic table was my emerald city
The boy with his nose in a book was my wizard
The gift he gave me was his judgement less stares and his forever listening ear
Maybe I was to young
Maybe I was to dumb
Maybe I wasent brave enough
Maybe I wasent pretty enough
Maybe you just saw me as a silly girl
Maybe you just were to busy with that maze of a book
But that summer will forever be my what if
What if I had been older
What if I had been braver
What if I had snatched that book away
What if I had occupied your brain the way that book did
What if I had stolen those lips between bites of concentration
What if I had snatched your finger tips between page flips
Maybe thing would be different
Maybe things would be better
You know who you are.
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