Yes she has been my friend
for over two years..She is yes.
She is buff, real buff to me, she is.
She knows every thing, every thing.
We even shared our accounts, she and I.
You know what? ..I might be lying.
Even back then we trusted one another,
even back then.
Will I tell you...?
I boast and Bragg on her...her..the her...
She is more than the mother, most are.
Not yet twenty..Not yet twenty.Not yet.
You have not given me the trust..as she has..
Does age matter..does it..or does it..
She was buff before buff was even buff.
Now she's tough as tough as any buff and
puffed as the sky.The whole sky.
No..we have not...it never occured to us..
Still we are more than friends..
I confess to her, she confesses to me..she..
is more than that to me..she is the other who still cries.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
real friendship is thus, cherish it for all your years. Nice write. :)