My Friend

The drunken days of yesteryear,
Do sometimes raise a tear,
On older eyes gazing back,
To memories brighter than the light
When they formed,
About two friends talking and drinking,
From sunset through moonrise,
Into the pale mist that calls in the dawn.
It is of no matter what was said,
Only that bonds were forged to last a lifetime of rust,
And the drift of years cannot divide,
Brothers in who the blood of lasting loyalty will flow,
Past the wheel of life and death,
That in a moment can take a lifetime,
They cannot take this.
And though I may never tell you,
Let the discarded bottles of our youth,
Carry this one message:
That you are,
And till the last will be,
My friend

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(C) Copyright Mark B Williams 2014 Registered & Protected
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