We Don't Do The Same Drugs No More
When did you change?
When did I become a stranger in your yearbook
Braced teeth blurry
In smoky backwards vision
Don’t you miss the days
We played pick-up basketball at recess
You only had to block my shot once before
I learned
I thought you’d never grow up,
Squeaking out responses to teachers,
Turning in papers and arriving at practice
Too late
When did I start to forget how to
Find wisdom in your childlike visions
Seeing God in your Tuesday night taco
When did you start to forget how to fly?
You were always perfect, and I was only practice