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You're slipping away Your mind it is almost gone Eyes clouded by confusion Then you sing a song your eyes brighten once more The moments seem to be passing by your minds door Once strong and leaned on,
It only took seven seconds to notice your presence,It only took seven seconds for our eyes to meet,It only took seven seconds for my heart to decide,It only took seven seconds for my mind to question,
Losing time is like losing thoughts. Losing time is like losing love. Losing time can be like losing the dots, that are bright and high above.       Growing up can be really hard.
what do these eyes see? do they see the color of the snow  in front of you? what do these eyes see? do they see the blush on my cheek  due to cold? what do these wide eyes see?
Being so small I enjoyed butterflies. The color of the wings were beautiful very...mezmerizing. I held them and observed the beauty with my own eyes, but I would release them from my finger. Although, one continues to stay.
Experienced and at heart young , A fire burning bright behind the eyes and above the tongue.   Familiar with life's ways a veteran at making it through everyday and turning a path into a chance to convey.  
When you were dying, I was dazed yet ambushed. We were fusing, and I got cold feet. Who knew I wasn't cunning, firm, nor merciful of your love. The content was only in text, and a dial was abundant.
Dear Mom,   I can barely remember the last time we’ve talked, And even fainter, the last time you walked.
Dear Old Friend, It has been a long year, hasn’t it? So much has happened, but I would still rather be taken back to December.
The ghost of the past  Is lingering by. The ghost of the present Is me. The ghost of the future Is not yet to see Just waiting for  The time to past.
When you told me you loved me between messy kissesI held my head in my handsand my eyes began to cry I cried because you made mefeel as if I’m highNo lighter was required for me to inhale you 
I’d skin myself alive if it meant I could stop feeling your hands crushing my chest.  
The young steamboat glides through the bright blue waters His engine is pristine, His propeller rotates as fast as a hummingbird. ThSo youne young steamboat has no problem riding the calm waves.
As a child, I endured extreme anxiety once my adolescent body found itself incarcerated by the unforgiving darkness of the night.  
I remember the end of June,  Oh my, It was like my favorite song, but except now it sounds out of tune.   We would look up, Wondering what we got ourselves into,
Memories???... They are like mud on old moments, They are like tears in eyes, They are like smile on lips, Ultimately, they are the magic that light the mind and heart at the same time....☁
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