The Old Familiar Faces

The Friend Forgot

Surely
when you and I are rather old
and the present is the future not in wait
and  my mama’s thatched house is long gone and sold
and your child passes birthdays in another  state
Surely
when the leaves have all converted their hue
and the neighbors’ grass seems no longer so green
and a piece of  toast proves too hard to consume
and every other two steps burdens the spleen
Surely
when the melanin has run its due course
and the hair has taken on the shade of flour
and the irises have faded into remorse
and life is little but an accession  to the hours
Surely
when all is said, and said undone
and we’ve each pursued our dispersed fates
and lost or forgot ourselves for a while
and pecked clean the wreckage from our plates
Surely
when you and I, in our depleted moulds,
and decades, decades, decades spent
and outlived by those syncretic wiles
and resting comfortably within their rent
Surely
this is when we concede to recover
and pull from our backs the rusted knives
and forgive for having grown up without each other
and for  trying to keep hostage one another in our lives.

via crowdedinmyskin