You walk in and smell the wood.
You see the bright blue pool and giant lake behind it.
You walk through the sliding door and hear the boats.
My friends faces smiling
Days, Weeks, Months, Years.
We stopped hanging out.
Your grown, I am grown, we've grown.
We took separate paths.
You quit school and started drugs.
Years later I walk through your door.
The smell of marijuana and cigarette smoke smack me in the face.
As I turn my head my eye catches a white ...