I didn't remember much.
But as I think back through time, I could see myself on your own arms.
Both hands wrap around my waist.
Just a child too little to realize, that you were about to fly away.
A long mile away but a thousand space too big to say.
But a memory enough to tell me as I grow up that you were there all alone, too poor, too cold, to survive on your own.
We chat all day and night, on Skype or Yahoo or anything all right.
Mom said your okay.
But then you admit you cry all day.
About too much work and a life with no joke,
How you have to stand up, big and strong, to make the goal.
Even if it's minus thirty cold.
Even if your way too old.
It's been 7 years and your still there.
And I'm still here.
A 13 year-old girl and a certified teen.
Who look up at the sky
Every time an airplane pass by
And she would ask the world
When will I fly?