Maybe I'm just a little bit broken.
Maybe I cry too often on my own...

We met each other in sixth grade.
Became friends right a way...

She doesntk know what love is,
No ones ever shown...

He sighs and confronts his enemy; the mirror.
Glaring back at the reflection that taunts him...

Why did you have to go?
Why did cancer pick you...

It started in the classroom,
She somehow caught his eye...

She walks through the hallway,
No one stops and stares...

She gave him her heart,
He gave her his soul...

A little girl crosses the playground,
She wonders why everyone stares...

I take my last look the mirror,
take a deep breath and tell myself...

I wish you would come back,
and Id make you mine...

I may not say it
as much as I should...