The Change of Time

November 19, 2009
By Anonymous

Time is a funny thing,
It works it magic,
And your future it sings.
One day you may get a call,
It comes after school around fall.
But a year later, you sit.
You remember those good ole days.
When best friends talked of old tales,
And when friendships never broke.

But you look back at life,
All the people you knew
But you no longer know them,
Just the shadow they hide from.
Their past, the person they used to be.
The person we all still want to be.
The way we used to be back then,
But then we change.
We forget who really made us who we are.
Who changed and questioned our thoughts.
Who showed us knew roads.
Who knew us better than the rest.
Could know our thoughts before we did.
Those are the people that we forget.
They are the ones that get shoved aside and looked over.
The ones that are a chewed up piece of gum.
That lost flavor, but who’s good breath still lies within us.
Those are the friends.
The ones we lose, or get rid of.
The ones whom we say we never even think of,
But still, we do,
Every now and then, they cross our minds.
They touch that shadow, the one that hides
From the friends that seek them.
The ones that disappeared
Or so we thought they did.
But really, we pushed them away,
Forgot them.
Let them slide through our fingers.
The ones that cared the most.
Who still do, and wait
Hoping for the best.
The lone friends.

The author's comments:
I wrote this piece a few years back. This poem portrays my juvenile thoughts on relationships and friendships. This was at a large shift in my life after I moved schools.

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