An Old Friend Poem by Melanie Emikohe

An Old Friend



I am meeting an old friend
I knew this is due to come;
glee dropped by and t'was good,
my friend and glee ain't pals.

Clouds that were once white
turn to a thousand faces,
curling the smokiness to wrap
around the sunset's traces.

I ache to save my senses
scrawl them in a waste pad.
The old friend has not forgotten,
cautiously kneading my sore.

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