Written by: Leonard Kleeman


I keep thinking of my friends 
as one by one they die
so I really have to think of them 
as  just passing by.

Perhaps at some other place
 we'll meet once again.
But it's not up to me say 
just where or when.

I hope that I will meet 
my friends
so we can just talk
about the good times 
before they met their ends

And the times that we lived
as we helped one another 
to live a good life
as we would like a brother.

We offered each help
were we to see a need
for friends were always there  
and we didn't have to plead

But as time passes on
and my friends go on by,
I look for them all
down low and on high.
But they are all gone
as one by one they die.

So I now stand alone
 to wonder just when,
 or if ever again, 
I will get to see 
the ones I called a friend.

*  As Secretary-Treasurer of my High School Class Reunion Committee (January/June 1949 class) I keep the data base and record deaths, etc.  As I update the data I am saddened by the many deaths of my friends as our age marches on.  Also, I am the last man standing out of the eight that formed my band in my youth. Those things prompted the poem.