The friends from my youth
I will one day forget
when I reach the final stretch
the friends for whom I wept
will be no more than a sketch
faint and foggy in my head.
Should I let them go before I age
and relegate those bitter memories
to the funeral pyre of past regrets
and silly, secondhand mistakes
that I still rue to this day?
Should I set aside my distaste
and resurrect from neglected graves
the bonds I shared with former friends
whose faces are blurred
and whose voices are unheard?
If I’ve truly changed
as much as everyone claims
then the friends I once had
belong in the past
with the fool that made them.
© Davey Cobb 2022 All Rights Reserved
Davey Cobb 