I thought of it as a place of books and pens only
A place of learning and teaching
But it was something else

It was a place of creating memories
Capturing moments
Making a movie out of it
With all the teenage drama and fantasy

It was a camp site for some
Always ready to go on an adventure
It was a place of retreat for others
Because it had a feeling of home

It is a place to forever be remembered

I miss you,
I miss talking to you like I haven't talked to you in weeks,
as if before was what we had going on now,
not talking,
and when we talked we were so happy to talk,
so excited,
like we were not able to speak,
for staring through a monitor was enough,
like every dream we had was build on dirt and fairytale's,
but one thing we never forgot to include was the trust,
I honestly never had a better friend,
I never loved someone to the end as much as I did with him,
But what could I of missed,
to miss the fact that he got upset by me,
to the point where he no longer wants to speak to me,
what did I miss,
when he wouldn't even phone to tell me with his his own two lips.
when I cried for days,
praying,
saying,
I'm sorry for whatever I've done,
I just miss you,
because I feel as if the flowers all closed up,
and the bee's can't pollinate for the honey,
and now everyone must suffer greatly.
because you can make a flower open up to you,
by missing it.