and the small words from your lips
whispered harsh things through the telephone.
as you sit by the window, watching the world change its shape
this time not you.
and the reply from the other end
a voice so clear as the cripsy morning
tells you it is to late
as you watch the world through the window, you melt away
because water and rain and
tears from your lips
they fly for seconds in the air
as swans flying together at summertime
it is far away
and you know you never will have it back.
thanks.
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