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TheDaisyDancer Jun 2015
Minutes go by,
Hours go by,
Days go by,
and there is not one moment when I don't miss you.

I miss the old you.

The one that holds my hand,
and not my heart.

The one that laughs with me,
instead of at me.

The one that only had one ******* his mind,
and that one girl was me.

if it were ever possible,
I want to meet the old you,
and teach you how to stay...
The old you.

The much simpler times. The kinder times. The loving times.

I want to go there.
I usually think poems need to rhyme, but I decided I should switch it up a bit.

— The End —