sweat

on days like this you and i
we would spread our wings and fly
but since then we have said goodbye
and now, tonight, i do not cry.

colors came on trees too fast
more quickly than years in the past
just not enough to make us last
and with the snow came questions asked

i dont feel much like writing now
these few lines seem enough somehow
remember when we both said "wow"
summer's sweat dripped from my brow

so it goes on, this game of ball
perhaps it's him for whom you'll fall
i guess you just cant win em all.
but in the end its still your call