I sat down to write a letter <br />to an old friend of mine, <br />someone I had not seen <br />for thirty or forty years. <br />Only realizing as I put pen to paper <br />how the years had flown by, <br />though it only seem like yesterday <br />we had met on the street <br />and had a long chat together. <br />I realized then to my regret <br />that I did not know if <br />they were alive or dead. <br />If they were gone, <br />yet another thread to my past <br />had disappeared forever. <br />A curtain of sadness fell over me <br />as my memories re-enacted <br />moments from so long ago, <br />moments that will never return. <br /> <br />My pen hovered above the paper <br />and no words could I write <br />as my mind clouded with memories <br />of friends I had let go. <br />It's so easy to say see you later, <br />when half the time we never do. <br />Then comes today like now <br />and you realise there maybe no later. <br />Those friends of yesterday maybe gone <br />and only reside within your memories. <br />Tears glazed my eyes <br />and I gave a silent sigh. <br />I wondered how may more times <br />will I ask myself why <br />in the passing of time. <br />Why I just sat and let them go. <br /> <br /> <br /> <br />25 February 2012<br /><br />David Harris<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/asking-myself-why/
