Mortality

A friend called round the other day

His face was pale, his skin was grey.

He said he hadn’t long to last

And wished to relive times gone past.

We talked about our times in school

And I let him paint me as the fool

In class, when teachers turned to see

The one making the face was me.

We bathed in mem’ries now revised

From times before his sure demise.

He smiled a weak and painful grin,

He looked so frail, so ill, so thin.

And as I stand before his grave

To say a final word, I’ll pray

That somewhere peace will be his own.

This best friend I have ever known.

Published in Poetry

Comments (1)

Posted by resistanceisfreedom
05-06-2008 12:16,

...
another nicely done poem. you say poems aren't your favorite but i think your poems are very well written and the messages they convey are clear.

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