Wonderful friends, O' friends of mine, <br />In this my tragic time. <br />Where did they all go? <br />Or were they really true friends of mine? <br /> <br />As my hole was dug deeper, <br />And I looked all around. <br />My best recollection, <br />Not five friends to be found. <br /> <br />Would they heed the last prayer? <br />Would they summon the will? <br />To show up and throw, <br />The last dirt on my hill. <br /> <br />As my hill sinks, and it hardens, <br />With passage of time. <br />I listen for their footsteps, <br />These good friends of mine. <br /> <br />Surely they were to busy, <br />Maybe preoccupied with self. <br />For sure they never heard, <br />About my bad health. <br /> <br />My hope though is eternal, <br />Never lost, pray never will. <br />Let them know when they show, <br />Throw the last dirt on my hill.<br /><br />Barry A. Lanier<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/my-hill/
