Ghosts

By In Art, Poetry — May 25, 2016

They are like ghosts as they come and go

When they leave I do not know

One minute they are there, as clear as day

The next minute they’re gone, they never stay

 

One minute we are laughing, the next saying goodbye

Many leave for good but few actually die

Coming and going, there is a pattern to it all

Everyone has to leave when they get the call

 

Those ghosts of whom I’m speaking are all of my friends

They come and they go, with no end

There is a season to everything, even brotherhood

But even saying goodbye can produce something good

 

I do not feel betrayed by the path my friends have chosen

I understand that this life does not stay frozen

People change as they pass through this tragic game

I am glad for the people who I know by name

 

I am glad for the people with whom I’ve shared my life

They are the people who molded me, who held me through the night

I am glad for the seasons and the people I know

I am glad for their influence and the way that I grow

 

But when it is time to say goodbye, it is time to truly leave

Even though the process is filled with grief

I will never forget my friends past and present

I only allow them to go if they feel pressed to it

 

I write this poem for all of my brothers

As we move on, we will always love each other

From now on it will never be the same

But there are seasons to friendship, and that is okay

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