There was a topic,
One quite puzzling,
One to stump the greatest geniuses
Of the word.
It had left me hanging
For a day or two,
Which later turned to a week.

I asked myself,
"What is a friend?"
And not knowing the answer,
I did what any red-blooded, 21st century American would.
I turned to the Internet.

I typed my query into Google,
To be met with a barrage
To rival war
Of quotes and pictures and even other poems,
But none answered my question.

It was in an email
To a person I cannot categorize
That it hit me,
As hard as a bullet,
Yet as soft as a burst of wind.

Friendship is not
Something you know with your head,
But something you feel with your heart.

I can’t ask
“What is a friend?”
Because I already know.

My question had been answered,
Not by the Internet,
But by a person I'll now
call my friend,
The definition clear.

The answer was vague,
And my questions still many,
But I am confident
That when I meet a person
I'll know what to call them.