in the chilly autumn breeze
on the rusty old park bench,
i sit and reminisce.
your old Walkman and the songs about rain,
dried persimmons and your love for them,
the four line poems in your journal
and sketches of the sky,
your words of love and the warmth of your voice,
just every little thing about you
is engraved deeply in this heart of mine.
Bạn đang đọc truyện trên: Truyen2U.Pro