Friends

Freedom for breakfast,
Boisterous laughter for lunch,
And a breezy banterous midnight,
My sorrow now must drop its head in shame,
And ennui might as well pack its bags.

Comely has come to me in gay abandon,
Gone are the times when nearness was too far.
For Friendship is now life’s new name.
Their naughty taunts are all, but feathers in my hands.
Their tender hugs are all, but butterflies on my eyelids.
The voice of their smiles deeper than joys of the rain.

Our Internet whining, a celebration of youth’s desire.
Our parallel pasts, a creation of monumental moments.
Our nasty arguments, an asynchronous melody.

I revel every night, in our silence;
In the calm that has followed our early twenties rebellion.
I smoke away puffs of intoxicating cigars;
To empathize with the narcissistic joys of your intense highs.

I travel the roads of your experiences,
Embracing the tender stories of unsaid loves.
I fathom the meanings of your whims,
Jumping along with puppets of our vanilla dreams.

I learn music that transcends thresholds,
Singing along, with your iconoclastic imagination.
I learn sports that inspires spirited quests,
Appreciating ideologies that lie on other continents.

Past ofcourse peeps in at times.
So every morning now,
Before I latch the house;
I rush back to bid goodbye, and
Smell that old bed sheet,
and the pillow of teens,
Where my head lay,
And my heart lived.

But I know now;
That the dead cannot do what life can do.
For the dead cannot do what dreams can.
For the dead cannot do what friends can.