Poetry

  One day, you'll call out to me again, But no answers will be found, My friends won't answer your calls, And even if they did, they wouldn't have any answers to give. One day, you'll search for me once more, Wandering aimlessly through this mundane city, Crying out for me, weeping and sobbing, But alas I won't be there to wipe your tears away. One day, I'll be gone like the setting sun.                                                     -crystal