Friends

When I consider all the friends I’ve lost,
On things that matter little to me now.
Or friends who gently warned me of the cost,
Of every argument I would allow
When every friend of mine who tried to share,
The harsher truths of life I did forget.
And make believe I didn’t have a care,
In living every day without regret.
But as the autumn of my years draw near,
I think of friends in silent solitude.
And hope that some of them would reappear,
So that all our friendships could be renewed.
For if in forgiving me, my dear friends,
Our friendships would be restored to the end.

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