In the pending days
lazing around with inanimate hope
a ray of light beckons
for me to realize my own sorrow
"If time went back, would you still be the same?"
the light ponders
which was already too obvious
if shame and regret had a same meaning
they would call me an example
but even knowing that
won't change the fact that I still 'love' you
muttering that phrase
won't change the fact that she's gone
reminiscing only strains
the status of
like a hand drawn picture
it was my own foolishness
that tore it to pieces
it was my own fault
that destroyed 'us' to pieces as well
I look at it everyday
the image of 'me and you'
stained on the mirror
with an empty reflection
it's already too late to piece back the broken pieces
shattered during that time of 'before'
from the apathetic identity
to the me that has no 'second chance'
he desperately puts back the fractured feelings of love
back on the mirror, only to find
the image of a boy
who she once had loved