I sit here lost in thought ,
thinking of what we used to talk.
Yearning to talk now,
I hear nothing but the clocks tick-tock.
The endless conversations,
& the sleepless nights,
felt good when I knew,
I made a friend that night.
We spoke of music and lyrics,
and the meanings that lay beneath,
& books and pages that contain,
a world underneath.
As time passed by,
I made friends, a score.
We became close and spoke,
of the happiness we bore.
As I spoke more,
Ideas began to flow,
& the words began to grow,
like never before
