Whatever we might come to regret now
In the morning it's just
A shadow on who we used to say we were
Whatever you denied
Whatever you taught yourself to feel
In the dusk it's only
A glimmer of what we promised we were
And you could say maybe
Maybe noone was meant to be real
A constant game of remembering
Remembering
Whatever we did
Whatever we hid behind closed doors
In their eyes it's just
Something they always thought anyway
Whatever you claimed
Whatever you never thought you'd be
In my heart it's not
Wrong or right, just somehow meant to be
And you would say maybe
Maybe it was just a phase anyhow
A constant game of changing
Changing...
© 2009 Marcea L. Brown. All rights reserved.
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