what left

yesterday was a time to celebrate

but it had no more meaning

and like last june it was behind me

much like rain that danced in front of me

and went dry once the sun tapped on it's surface

you erase the messenger but remember the message

then the other day a poem comes through the channel

that hits a instant flash in your mind and it says

there was a time when it appeared you and i would

dance and jump the broom over and over again

like two birds that flocked together in the warmth of summer



but our paths went in different directions and like a mirror

we had to find our own area to be seen exclusively

so we never ask what is left because nothing went right

in the end