How It Used To Be

Take me to a time When there was no water Take me to a time When innocence Couldn’t describe your daughter When the only path Was a stairway to no where When you only think strangers care Only to find No one even bothers to stare Is that how it used to be? The more you tell me The further I see Is that how it used to be? Were you all alone? With no where to roam No place to call home Did you make soup from stone? And when you looked toward the mirror Did you see only a skeleton of aging bones? Do you miss the laughter? Do you miss wanting to see Who would remain there after? Do you still chase a hopeless dream? Do you still lead a life broken in scenes? Is everything we stand for just a fading theme? Do you still move as often as dust on a windy day? Do you still wish for Decembers so cold That you’d sell your only belongings To see early days of May Is that how it used to be? Was that you, all alone, with no where to roam No place to call home Did you make soup from stone? Lately have you only seen a skeleton of aging bones?