Robdob
Bluelighter
I couldn't really think of a title for this one... suggestions are welcome.
Wind gently rustles,
through autumns fallen leaves,
stiring forth a consciousness,
of some one I once deceived.
He was so young and naive,
not knowing better than to trust me.
How little he must have conceived,
to turn over all his faith,
to someone he believed.
So many nights he told me his dreams,
and each wish upon a shooting star
but now he is older,
and all his dreams seem just as far.
When he turns to me
he sees a stranger in these old shoes,
I have let him down,
and I was all he could choose.
I wish I could flip over,
reversing the sands of time
to when everything was carefree,
and I could help my little boy,
so I don't end up as me.
Wind gently rustles,
through autumns fallen leaves,
stiring forth a consciousness,
of some one I once deceived.
He was so young and naive,
not knowing better than to trust me.
How little he must have conceived,
to turn over all his faith,
to someone he believed.
So many nights he told me his dreams,
and each wish upon a shooting star
but now he is older,
and all his dreams seem just as far.
When he turns to me
he sees a stranger in these old shoes,
I have let him down,
and I was all he could choose.
I wish I could flip over,
reversing the sands of time
to when everything was carefree,
and I could help my little boy,
so I don't end up as me.
