Eighty-five

The path that we used to walk,

already full with dry leaves..

The night air saturated with our flying words,

have turn into an empty box..

The light heart-warming atmosphere,

are no longer exist..

Did you even realize that i've change ?

i might not forget about you..

or one day everyone will forget me..

i just miss everything about us..

I'm scared of being a 'lost friend' .

END