The Only Thing We're Sure Of
Darling, come back to me
Let's feel what it used to be
When you and I were still as one
Wild, free, and having fun
You and I were meant to be
Under the stars and the huge narra tree
When every dream I ever had
Was right beside me, and I wasn't sad
But nothing lasts forever, right?
Even the stars and the bright moonlight
Nothing is ever as it seems
Even shooting stars and sparkling moonbeams
Because on Earth, nothing is real
Not even the way we feel
Nothing is ever certain
Except when they bring down the curtain
Because the only constant thing is change
And what we do shoots out of range
End is the only thing we're sure of
And end is the only thing we're sure of
Labels: literature, poems, summer, writings