I Almost Lost Her

Sometimes a friendship just gets tired, it wants something new to grasp onto. There is a new level it desires, but cannot bridge the gap til some part dies. Tears wash it clean... an eraser in the teacher's hand wipes the slate clean; we both learn. We skip on that sidewalk hand in hand tossing our pet rock across the pond. We jump rope, escaping the noose that wanted to choke us, but in perfect time. Our shirts will match perfectly again. To: Aimee Sheila Kathryn Barrera http://www.myspace.com/sheila_kathryn_barrera