Old Friends Poem by RIC BASTASA

sometimes i admit i miss old friends,
and when i see some of them,
alumnus of the same university
where i spent most of my years,
i feel we are one big family and
i am happy and if there is a need
we shall have our reunions, and get
to recall what we shared before
some old songs, some hardships,
common joys and sorrows
untold escapades, emotions cascade

sometimes i like to go back to the past
and ask where i succeeded and failed, where i was once
aloof and not so cooperative,
i go back with a
heavy heart, and i make some promises
for recompense and be more likable

but then, they have already formed their opinions
fixed their minds, sculpted me to finality,

to a certain extent i am as i was once and
there is no more change from their points of view

i feel they wish that i should have died earlier
and that it would have been better if they have not seen me again.

there is this hard rock, like their conclusions, like fists
and here i am, again under the same wrong impression
now and ever shall be.(forever amen)

i give them the same response: i am used to all these.
and i do not really care if i still continue writing poems.