I called it summer thing,
They called it summer love.
Mere scrapes,
False reality.
All the ‘him’ that, ‘him’ this,
All changed into ‘me’s.
Slowly time flies by,
Tears shedding down my eyes.
Suddenly all the ‘him’,
All changed into ‘I’s.
They call it summer thing,
I call it summer love.
Category: La Poésie