Almost gone, the memories of fate at low tide,
Wishing I could say it's been a fantastic ride.
Wishing on a star that it didn't end this way,
Wishing in my dreams that our life could be okay.
Almost quiet, the frantic beating in my warm chest,
Crying buckets of rain as our hearts take a rest.
Crying as I tally all the days and weeks since we met,
Crying in my dreams, that is the best it will ever get.
Almost ...
Copyright © Michele Osborn, 2011
All Rights Reserved
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