Category : Poems

Sub Category : N/A

On these slow days I think about you.
And on these slow days I feel my heart move. 
With this time I play out all the events.
And with this time I try to make what happen make sense. 
It's what makes it all come home. 
And it's what makes the thought of growing old alone. 
In those years it was a learning process. 
And in those years don't ever say we lost them. 
What we've come to be was something to be discovered. 
And what we've come to be is a better person, traveler and lover.  
Moving back is up to time to decide.
And moving back could be beautiful by each other's sides.