I was a small boy when first my friend appeared,

So long ago as now it is that I am much older than.

A friend that was there whenever I was lonely and scared,

I did talk to back then, laughed and ran in a field of weeds.

As I got a year older this friend was not by my side, wandered,

I would meet others and my friend would stand across the street,

Pacing back and forth, I was growing older as my friend remained a child.

Slowly I had not much in common with my secret friend, the games changed,

The more I wandered and found, the further the distance between us.

My secret friend was leaving me, I couldn’t hold on as much as I thought I wanted,

My friend was leaving me as it was time to go, just as I went away, a friend no more.

Keith Garrett


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