Poetry

Walking home from school one day
I remembered what you said,
That whatsoever which way
We'd go, you'd be close ahead.

I enjoyed the red sunsets
We would watch on our way home,
Colored lights on small droplets
On the grass, shining like chrome;

We would pass by the river
And I would throw skipping stones,
You'd hold me and deliver
In my hands rocks shaped like cones;

I breathed in the evening air
Wondering why 'twas so sweet,
Forgetting that you were near,
All the perfume that was it.

I see now the days ahead
And the life that I shall find,         
For the many times you've led              
And grown, I was left behind.