By Allie Marie
We walk down these same old streets
with weary eyes and tired feet.
I dream of the day when you’ll see
the hidden parts of me.
Nothing lost and nothing won,
as we go on, and on, and on.
Maybe this September
has seen finer weather,
but winter will come
and the leaves will fall down, down, down.
Remind me when spring is here again.
The pattern of the rain
will wake up my heart
and tear the frost apart.
In the heat of the sun,
we’ll finally run, and run, and run.