Occupied Summer

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Poetry  |  House: Booksie Classic
This one's about a summer fling.

Submitted: May 03, 2011

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Submitted: May 03, 2011

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The days pass like weeks,

the minutes like snow; freezing cold.

Time just wouldn't pass.

I looked into your eyes,

and was taken by suprise.

When I got lost,

and couldn't find my way home.

You said,

''Thought is just a concept, so just take my hand.''

Then, we left.

We've grown apart,

these few years.

Never to look back, or shed a single tear.

I use to like you.

Love is such a strong word.

Let's throw it into the fire,

and watch it burn.

I'm sorry, but we can't go on.

This is the end of our rope,

time to be gone.

It's not what was our's.

A short summer fling,

is all you'll ever mean to me.

Years have passed.

The days like weeks.

The season's have changed,

and so have we.

I still have the letters you wrote,

and the picture's you've sent;

in a box on the top shelf,

where they're meant.

I burned the love,

and shattered all hope.

Things have changed,

and that's how they'll stay.

The little good,

we can at least say,

"Our summer's occupied,"

but that's all,

that remained.

We'll think,

"what if?''

Things can't be changed.

You don't mean a thing to me,

and that's how it'll stay.

I said,

you don't mean a thing to me,

and that's how,

it will stay.


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