My Rice-A-Roni
You once wrote a letter to me, do you remember?
You brought it over to me that first morning in November.
You came to me all bush-eyed and hungover,
Wanting to know if I would be your four leaf clover.
I sat you down and held you while you cried,
I told you I would be there till I died.
I should have known it from the start,
I'd hold you at bay and let it all fall apart.
We can't count the sequence of events that lead to our demise,
Or how we let the truths we spoke in those moments all become lies.
Sometimes I still sit and contemplate how I could've changed things,
But I always come to the conclusion it's not probable we're both complicated beings.
God had only alloted a little bit of time for us till we met our end,
But I would have been spoiled to get more than that with my first best friend
Copyright © Francine Jaramillo | Year Posted 2010
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