Email Poem | Today's Poetry

 Should Old Acquaintance
She was a friend.
That is what was said.
But with one swift kiss from her lips
I could
I would fall dead.
I cannot take them back.
Those times before.
The times of long ago.
I have slammed the door.
I cannot take them back.
Its what has been reaped.
Its what has been sown.
In one bright corner of time
so long ago
She was a friend of mine.
But now the winds have changed
and the memories are but hurricane
Traitorous friend.
So literally
your days
have come to an untimely end.
Traitorous time.
All the rightness
that was or might have been,
is gone to the grave,
and with it all her misdeeds...
no, she and them will never return again.

I went looking for an old "friend" and found an obituary instead. At the time of our last
meeting she was more traitor than friend. However, my eyes filled with tears as I read she had
died at 39, gone for over three years. Go figure. Goodbye April. The irony is that she
may "crop" up now and again. In dreams. In regrets. Even when friendships end badly, there are
regrets. Which is better...the previous burning itch for revenge or what has replace it,
the intermittent ache of regret?  Neither?

Meloo/Melissa A Howells Tilt-a-World    January 21 2011.

Vote for this poem

Please Comment On This Poem


 Email Address


Vote for this poem

  Sign Guestbook
  Read Guestbook


 Privacy Statement | Terms of Use | © 2000-2019 +++ Individual Authors of the Poetry. All rights reserved by authors