I visit her chat window now and then And it feels like an ode to a Tombstone And as I walk among the dead lines That were once alive with our love I can feel the grass of time grow Steadily, under my very feet. Maybe next year, on her birthday I shall scroll through here again And until then I will leave these lines here As an elegy To what was once living And breathing But is now very dead.
Together, under a clear blue sky