It hurts me to say that my long ago is your yesterday
my now is August, and yours May.
the days between fade away and start to chatter
because you never made them matter
so in your memory stays only the few
pictures of all the people that you drew.
As I am writing this right now
you wonder "how
can you not do a thing?
about having a life so boring"
i tell you "today i can not do
other than i have to
and before, i never saw that today
is the only day
that will ever remain"
because it only starts over and over again.
There is nothing more to come
I wish i could go back to when I had the chance to change
so that I could make it end up less strange
I wish i could relive
forget, about all my issues,
and throw away those useless tissues
because there is not much more to come
so i crash down and cry out "i don't know how to sum
this empty life."
I wish you a better future, love