• She was up on the roof top,
    When I first saw her.
    Her feet dangled off the ledge,
    her hair blowing in the wind.
    I thought to myself,
    why is she alone?
    I didn't call up to her,
    to yell her down.

    She was at a graveyard,
    the second time I saw her.
    Her eyes red and puffy,
    her small body clad in black.
    I thought to myself,
    who died?
    I didn't ask her,
    it was no problem of mine.

    She was at a dinner,
    the thrice time I saw her.
    With a boy,
    and a smile.
    I thought to myself,
    is he good for her?
    I didn't wave her over,
    we hadn't none each other.

    She was in a park,
    the fourth time I saw her.
    Tears in her eyes,
    a rose in her lap.
    I thought to myself,
    was it him?
    I didn't walk over,
    not run, or call, or wave.
    Because she had her own problems,
    a burden like me would add.

    She was on the steps,
    the fifth time I saw her.
    A ring on her finger,
    a smile on her face.
    I thought to myself,
    tears of joy or sadness?
    I had no choice,
    I walked to her,
    talked to her,
    loved her,
    cherished her.

    The billionth time I must've saw her,
    she was laying on the couch.
    Her hair a mess,
    her eyes closed.
    I crept past her,
    through the house.
    Never dare to make a sound.