Your Friend

In my memory you appeared different

I can recall your face – partially

your eyes seem tired,

your hands appear so much older 

than what I remember, 

have they been holding on too 

tight to your friend ?

hand fisted, you’ve found

it hard to resist it – 

“dear memory don’t fail me

you are all I have”

I can’t remember what I was,

I can remember what I thought I’d be

at some point it meant the world to me,

dreams as wounds – they fester, gallant

like a last grasp gesture,

all my aspirations

seem void of inspiration,

I have settled with my friend,

through time I have become weak,

he’s the only one I can depend – apparently 

it’s a means to an end

“memory are you awake” ?

I can’t remember the time it takes

to discover true self,

is despondency a cause of neglect

or an effect of staying constant

pushing towards the pulling

of ones actions,

a life riddled with spiritual transactions

which begs me to wonder,

are we guided ?

is guidance within ?

come now and pay for each sin one at a time

is spirituality within ?

come now and help me find him,

my friend,

he’s the last in line,

untrusting at your lowest point

the answer to self decline,

on a knife edge is where you’ll find 

your friend.