Bonafide Urban Chick

I miss the one I used to be,
I miss the one they used to see.

I miss how life was never easy,
I miss how, nonetheless trying was a part of me.

I miss how every road was remembered,
I miss how every turn had a memory.

I miss how things always taught something to me,
I miss how my weird ideas were listened to, sometimes even accepted with glee.

I miss how I was understood and accepted,
I miss how everyone around had a special bond with me.

Oh how I miss the one I used to be,
How I miss the one they used to see.