I have fond memories of an old friend.
Even in the gravest of circumstance,
If I looked in to her twinkling eyes,
I could swear she was ready to break into dance,
At the slightest excuse.
A cheerful soul, ready with a smile,
A warm greeting, a kind word,
A disarming joke, and such pretty lips,
I could swear she was ready to launch into laughter,
At the slightest excuse.
When she was around, even the wannest face
Would light up with a smile;
Brush away the tears,
And laugh, and talk, and dance
At the slightest excuse.
Many years passed 'fore I saw her again,
But I scarce recognized her without her smile...
She held her head lower, had circles 'round her eyes,
And could burst into tears, it seemed to me,
At the slightest excuse.
No disarming jokes, but bitter retorts.
No laughing lips, just a compressed frown.
No uplifting words, only cynical taunts.
She could go into a shell, it appeared to me,
At the slightest excuse.
I cornered her later, and cupped her cheek,
And looked at her with searching eyes.
She crumpled then, head on my shoulder,
And let the tears flow free.
What happened, I asked.
Life, she said.
Oh, friend, I realize now,
In grievous, bitter irony..
The person you needed all those years
To keep your chin high, your eyes bright,
Your heart and soul intact..
Was none other than you.
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9 comments:
very nice. i am not a critic, so i can't offer any words of constructive criticism. but i liked this one!
keep up the good work.
From your work its quite evident that you are a cancerian
TGFI,
Well thanks but don't sell yourself short :)
Mohit,
Aaaaaah... do you have any idea how often I've been told that?
So very good. I get what you mean (I think).
Unrelated -
Old Friends/Bookends - Simon & Garfunkel
Old friends,
Old friends
Sat on their park bench
Like bookends.
A newspaper blown though the grass
Falls on the round toes
Of the high shoes
Of the old friends.
Old friends,
Winter companions,
The old men
Lost in their overcoats,
Waiting for the sunset.
The sounds of the city,
Sifting through trees,
Settle like dust
On the shoulders
Of the old friends.
Can you imagine us
Years from today,
Sharing a park bench quietly?
How terribly strange
To be seventy.
Old friends,
Memory brushes the same years
Silently sharing the same fears
nice !!
On a evening so lonely
when not in best of my moods
ur poem touched my very heart
armed with nothing but the words..
beautiful!!touched my heart! loved it!
complex life
simple words
a good deal.
nice one gauy.. do i know who the girl in this poem is? ;)
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