There’s a certain kind of emptiness, comes with the loss of innocence 

A certain kind of brokenness, at the heart of all this helplessness 

There’s a certain kind of sadness, at the close of every summer

A certain kind of loneliness, takes me back to when I was younger

My memories like a Monet impression

My poetry like a Kerouac confession

Behind every sin, there’s a hard earned blessin

We all remember things, the way we choose

Do you remember it, the way I do

You hid behind your curtains

But for a moment, I saw through

There’s a certain kind of emptiness, comes with the loss of innocence