Wednesday, December 21, 2011

But is there anyone left?





When the spaces become to big, when the cracks won't stop breaking, when the wind whips out of nowhere and knocks down the big trees, I will still be here.

When the leaves fall, and the grass turns brown, the whole world seems to be a dull color between gray and yellow, I will still be here.

When the words you said were different than what you did, when the last ornament breaks and you were the cause, I will still be here.

When the sushi goes bad, and the prices on fruit go up, all you have left is a few pennies and your thoughts, I will still be here.

When the typewriter runs out of ink and you can't buy it any longer, your paper gets jammed, and you let it go in the wind, I will still be here.

When the ground shakes as if there's a giant stomping around and you feel like no one will ever notice, I will still be here.

When your words get stuck in your throat and you can't make your lips speak, you feel like no one cares, I will still be here.

When you finally realize who's left and who actually cares, I will still be here.


Forever Yours, 
Rachel

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