I took a journey today,

chalk full of just memory

reliving a day,

I’d never found a way.

I walked alone,

and cried alone,

I strolled with arrogance

and wept alone.

I never really knew why,

yet I wanted to die.

I am afraid of life alone

well, not as much today,

but going back to that day,

I can’t shake the tremors anymore.

I’m getting old,

I have to say,

so every new moment

seems only steps away,

from saying goodbye to forever.

I wonder what’s ahead

thinking about this day,

I’ve contemplated

forever the reasons

why it had to go down this way.

Whenever I seem satisfied

I begin to question why

I haven’t quite forgotten

still so easily can I cry.

I have a different outlook now

doesn’t mean I forgot this day.