We were meant to be friends
Possibly even more
But whatever could have been
Was dropped at the door
Photographs they tell a story
One that still longs to be written
Sadly the pages sit empty
Awaiting words to scribble lines
Thunder roaring through locked eyes
Memories frozen in the dust
All that's left of us
The winds that blow through the trees
Seem to cry endlessly for you and me
Hearts they cry in the night
For the dying light
That flickers across the bridge
What became of me and him
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