She sits there thinking of times in the past,
The days when she was happy and always had a blast.

She replays all the memories back in her head,
She wants to write them down, but good times can't be read.

She lies to her friends "Memories? Memories my ass"
"Why think of only things that happened in the past"

She wonders why she doesn't feel that way,
Happy like she did, in the memories she replays.

All the good days, good grades, and good friends,
Why did, five months ago, that all end?

But remembering her good days really does help her,
She sits around thinking--her present life is only a blur.

She sits there thinking of times in the past,
And wonders whether this day should be her last.
 
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