September 19, 2008
I look through at you,
Through this window of white,
Of noise hushed to silence;
Here we type through the night.

Your words seem unreal;
I can’t believe what you say.
You say addictions are nothing;
That life’s just for play.

I need to know you are real,
That it’s really you,
My beloved childhood friend,
Left all alone to choose.

You chose your own life,
That’s how you turned out this way.
I want to see you again,
But my memories turn grey.

All I can see now
Of that once boyish face,
Is a life stained with
Neglect, rejection, apathy and hate.

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