jr.

45 4 1
                                    

as i watch your back,
it hits me that
you're not as strong
as you were when i was five.
when you carry me
on your shoulders.

and i'll pretend i was somewhere
up above - flying
while you were trying
to hold me still,
guiding me until
i'll be able to fly,
and walk and run.

and then you'll face me
with that warm smile.
and right there, i knew
i was home.

-i'm sorry if i got busy growing up,
i forgot you were also growing old.

Words, they keep me up at night.Dove le storie prendono vita. Scoprilo ora