My Best Friend
My best friend had lots of curls
but wasn't like the other girls
who stayed dressed up and always clean.
My best friend wore old blue jeans.
She loved to do things just like me,
like building forts and climbing trees.
She stubbed her toe, and to stop the blood,
we both walked barefoot through the mud.
She could pitch a baseball, make it fly
much faster than most any guy.
And when she ran, her feet had wings!
My best friend could do anything.
One autumn day, I saw her cry.
I felt so sad when she told me why.
The doctors told her she was sick
and she needed treatment, really quick.
Her parents drove her. I watched them go,
and doctors still don't really know
just how to cure the thing she had
that made her sick and feel so bad.
One rainy night she went away
up to heaven where she will stay,
but her memory will never end
because I'll always remember
my best friend.
Comments about this poem (My Best Friend by Lylo Benant )
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