Too bad that I didn’t take pictures,

Nor paint the beautiful scenery

Before it’s too late, before my mind

Stop recreating them

All that’s left now are

Blurry images and fading memories

As if time has its own way to tell me

How superficial it was



She’s such a fool for she thinks that

The two of them would be standing there,

At the place where it all started,

Together with those butterflies which were there

For he has never said it himself,

That four letter word,