originally posted May 19, 2009
I am entering this poem in a local newspaper poetry contest... wish me luck
How do friendships end this way.
Buried and dead and packed away.
Any good long ago forgotten,
Nothing left, just a smell so rotten.
No "talk to you later" or good-byes,
Just silence and stillness the only prize .
Who really cares what has transpired,
No regard of what anyone else required.
Left with words that should not be spoken,
Cruel and hurtful, surely the intended token.
Said for effect, but not worth a mention,
All thoughts of healing in suspension.
Nothing important came my way,
Little did others understand my display.
Living my life as I always do,
Hoping to find friends to guide me through.
Sometimes lucky in this quest,
Finding true friends, and certainly blessed.
Tried and true they are my might,
Kept close to me, always in sight.
Flowery prose, won't change the thought.
The meaning of what each one has brought.
The friendships dead and in the past,
Are purged and replaced at long last.