My friend says, “you’re not a traitor.” And it touches me in a way that I can’t quite define, except to say it’s a mixture of relief and grief and something else. Because I miss him. The first one, I mean. I miss smiling.
I have a secret memory
I won’t share
but it still makes me laugh
and hurt
because it happened
OOOOH again I say this friend is just God-like. Perhaps a religion which hoists him up to be worshipped is in order?
I have a secret memory/I won’t share/but it still makes me laugh/
and hurt/because it happened
Also, how poetic would it be to have this on your tombstone? Not suggesting this should occur anytime soon, of course.
Also – people: recognize using the same line to write a poem was not planned and just happened.
Also – you don’t want to compete against us in board games.
Oh my god – are we like a pop duo now – like Simon and Garfunkle or George Michael and the Other guy?
Seals and Crofts….Hall and Oats…Rocky and Bullwinkle
Your last verse does indeed say it all.
I love this..because it hurts…
Perhaps a good tombstone..My own…”Here in hell the coffee’s cold; they thought of everything”
I quite enjoy both of those epitaths.
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