Writing many times is an outlet for my heart
Often it comes out after over-and-over I start
I don’t always know the beginning or the end
Yet this one comes from the passing of a friend.
I’ve written many times about the path we walk on
I’m blessed to have found friends, even those gone
With each day, we don’t know what is to come along
Many times I say too much, whether right or wrong.
This was the case of one that became part of my life
So much so, I thought she might replace my late wife
Just like so many trying to work on a relationship today
It was hard to know whether to hug or simply walk away.
They say it is easier to look back rather than to see ahead
I try to understand why friends simply made me see red
Maybe I’ll never know which way the walk would have gone
For it seems a special friend is a memory, one that passed on.
