Next July
My summer friend,
I loved you once.
But it’s been a while now,
the times have changed and I’ve changed with it.
So have you.
I wish I cared enough,
to figure you out.
You truly are a puzzle.
But are you really?
Or is it just me,
has it always been just me?
Why don’t I trust a thing you say?
I’ll ask you when I see you,
when I see you next July.
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