Each day we pass, each time we ask, yet still we are untied
we walk alone, think alone, and yet still it hasn’t come to be
I think of you, you of me, but it just isn’t enough
When tomorrow comes, and opportunity runs, will we give up on such futility
Or will we pass, and dare to ask, if it could ever again be alright?
I think of you, thinking of me, and it seems only to fade
Another day, another way, the moment in passing is gone
We let it slip, probably because we wanted to, but still the unease remains
This morning I walk, see a smiling face, and for the first time in months, don’t let it goto waste.