My Friends
MY FRIENDS*
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.
Copyright © Leonard Kleeman | Year Posted 2013
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