Wednesday, December 15, 2010

The One

Petite, peculiar, passionate person
Whose pain I can't take pleasure in:
Where did you go?  What do you do?
Do you know where to find another like you?

You were never the one.
You were always the one,
I could count on to help when I thought I was done;
Could count on when doomsaying gave way to fun.

This friendship, it died and expedient death.
I moved on, you moved on, it drew its last breath,
and Having moved on, we can never go back,
But looking over our shoulders, let's smile and laugh.

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