On the Loss of a Friend Who Still Lives
On the Loss of a Friend (Who Still Lives!)
Though it happens quite seldom, a friendship can wither and die
on the vine when we don't see it coming, and pain smokes a peace
pipe with loss. Do I insult again an old friend who won't speak?
Should I say, "Mea culpa, " assuage friend's hurt feelings or hint
I'll send packing a truth that my heart feels, gain friends with untruth?
Let me not ply this trade! Could my doing so cost me Soul's Wife?
What's the point, if forgiveness is absent? What meaning has Grace
if mistake with no ‘malice of forethought' means heart I can't win?
Is a rose misconstrued that brings harm to one's love with its thorn?
Let me not steel my pride should a friend say goodbye as if I
am the victim, all pain is their fault, their dismissal caprice!
Can I know their heart's truths, or they mine? Won't hypocrisy reek
if I claim to, are feelings wine's pedigree, even its tint?
Can a friendship ‘restrained' find it thrives in a cage or a booth?
Let me ‘speak' friends whose absence on most days still cuts like a knife!
One seems dead, fool for Trump, but loved yet! (Loves my ex! Filled void's place.)
And another loved too! (He thought ‘rhyme's song' judged ‘free verse' a Sin!)
Is there life that can fail, at love's leaving, to morn child unborn?
Brian Johnston
10th of August in 2020
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