Story Books

it’s been a long time,

a lot of changes in-between,

so many worn out words,

that we really didn’t mean,

there’s been many others,

some that I love more,

but I never quit hoping,

someday you’d come knocking

on my door;

many might say,

I’m not the person I once used to be,

but I am who I always was,

just the person no one could ever see,

sometimes I think of how things

might have been,

but we never could’ve gone very far,

you travel the roads of this world,

while I was born to ride a star,

and for now you may laugh,

at words you don’t understand,

but in time will be revealed,

the rock that lies beneath this sand,

think of me then and know,

that if I could, our lives would be changed,

but like actors up on a stage,

the roles we play,

were already pre-arranged;

you and I were nothing but storybooks,

from which the other could learn,

going our separate ways,

when there were no more pages

left to turn.

.

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