Friendship brakes where reckless
race regardless; it’s not the scene
of magic mayhem where a greater
weight is placed on states of seeing
views unique and consummate
The pain of leaving always pays a
torrid price – when seen alone is
death; and keen a company as is
bereaved the torus speaks out of
that same mundane geometry
We’re friends because we each
forgave ahead of vicious prices paid.
One cannot choose the cost before
the pact is made – true friends are
few and far between
© 27 October 2009, I. D. Carswell
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem