Oh we are friends,
You and me.
Old friends,
As old as old can be.
And the days are gone by when,
We used to say goodbye,
Yet we are old friends.
The chasms that yawn beneath,
Separating us with what we cannot see.
A time that's done, a time now begun,
Yet there still will be a nail.
A burr, to hold us in our tracks moving,
Away, unmeeting, even in parallax,
As the sun sets and finally we say,
Oh, we are friends.
YOU ARE READING
Often confusing
PoetrySecond part to a muses musings because wattpad has a story limit. . . I mean an enthralling book of stories
