Old Friends by Rose L.
How hard is it to flip a single page?
To learn, to salute, to move on once more.
They say memories go away with age,
Meet new people, what more could be asked for?
I have had rivals, as I have had friends.
Will I remember them? When I’m old, gray.
Have we forgotten, on both of the ends?
Perhaps it is better off this way.
At each and every crestfallen goodbye,
I consider all I have left in past.
For the future, I can turn a blind eye.
I leave, as a half, loyalty steadfast.
Do they think of me as I think of them?
Do they stare into nothing, pondering?
With these old friends, so much mirth and mayhem,
They are like me: forever wandering.
All these people that I have left behind;
Whenever thinking, Happy springs to mind.