Every year, the tears roll by,
the friends forever, drop like flies.
I find myself reciting, less, hellos,
and additional goodbyes.

The high school years, shall tug my hand,
and the mellow clock receives blank stares.
It's cyclical rotation,
is more than these weary eyes can bare.

I've grown fatigued amidst this journey,
someone etch me through eternal time.
Someone sketch another pathway,
a never ending design.

One where people never change,
out of their own condemning greed.
Where friends bandage up, our open wounds,
instead of asking why we bleed.

If I had a question,
would you let me ask.
If I wanted you to talk to me,
would you laugh and look right past.

The clock still ticks in bitter shame,
on his never ending wheel.
As he leaves us with, another day,
he ponders what heart aches we shall feel.

I guess I will conform to him,
push these tears up to my brow.
I'll think these thoughts of long lost friends,
I'll stare, and ponder, how.

I will change, as well, today.
I'll trade tears, for a life of shame.
Knowing, someday, I will face the facts,
that no one stays the same.
 
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