It’s a morning
dawning late at eight,
and with each hour that passes,
I feel that it’s too late.
Too late for Sorry,
too late for Reset
I wish I could repeat each
single time that we met.
I chose a path so ambiguous,
I took the leap in the dark,
while you remained certain,
afraid of the question mark.
I’m not your lover now
and I’m not a friend,
but in hope that you’ll remember,
I cherish the nights we spent.








