Losing your Mates.
I used to have many friends, but I was busy and time passed;
got a new phone number neglected to tell them, when I, one
day, rang few of them, they had moved on too and one had
died; now that I’m suddenly old I think of them all, we used
to have much fun and deep talks. I’ve met a few of them lately
but distance has made us passing ships in the night, blinking
lights and have a good voyage. A man who neglect his friends
will always lose, there will be no one to tell him when he errs
and make gentle fun of him when he gets a little pompous.
At an art exhibition I met on such friend he criticised my latest
collection of poetry, I answered by saying his work was too
commercial and made to fit a hotel foyer. Years ago we would
have had a shouting match, got drunk and made up, now we
parted in silence; my phone doesn’t ring, we are now passing
ships on a vast ocean of the friendless.