The Poor Boy and His Sandbox

Here we are barely catching air.

I never thought you would think of her hair.

I'm glad I was not bare, for I have had 

The memory of one who showed me no care.

You are beautiful, you are good. 

I bet she heard that too. For the one right next to you

Will become your past. 

I thank you for putting me last. 

Getting older is something we think is far apart.

Return home when its colder and think of that time 

When you once hurt your shoulder.

Over there -

The clouds were blue and you had no clue

Because you see magic comes and goes...

I wonder the last time you sent her a rose. 

Or do you only remove your clothes?

When the days aren't colder do you have magical memories

Of getting older?

Would you kiss her shoulder or would you hold her?

You looked me i the eyes and told me. 

"Beautiful", yet you were incredibly cruel.

Magic comes and goes and when the

Magic never was spent I remember what it

All actually meant.

Enjoy your time and figure out what makes beautiful last,

Because this moment will become your past. 

I hope your sandbox was full of laughs,

I truly hope your box is full and I hope it lasts.

One day after many have passed, who will be your last

And will you want to see in your past?

I beg you to remove the shreds of glass because 

For a long while it held me back. 

If I can hold on to this moment while it lasts, 

I hope just for right now, you'll regret

This future past.

And I hope for these words you 

Remember to live each moment as if

It were some of the last.