Touching Point

If I could take you further, we'll stop at cherry point. One arm on the side, to put myself in nostalgic dreams.

..............

I genuinely miss having my friends around. The time has somehow trap me in the lines. Pulling me from contact. Complaining on 'I wasn't like this before' seems pretty stupid when you're no longer that moping cow. If by stating such could revert you back to the person you were, I'd do that in a heart beat.

I want my fast legs, good eyesight, non-anxious head, and soft skin back. But the life isn't fair so I could only mope and kick some steel around, and be the horrible child.

Eh, I still have my lazy self attached. And the friends whom I could no longer point out and scream the names out. Maybe a few.