ABAB
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Hello? Are you there?
I miss you.
This is just not fair.
The other day I found your missing shoe.
But how can I be the only one to care?
The one from last summer, the one that was blue.
It was a warm summer day,
And I was packing my backpack,
To go home for the day,
Off the beaten track.
As I looked up,
And turned to leave,
This bright face lit up,
The katana was a work of art;
Every sword was unique.
Its point could pierce a heart
And allow the mute to speak.
