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Through the Eyes of a Friend
Look at me through the eyes of a friend, she said,
A stream of thoughts embraced me in a sad rhapsody,
But I, drunk on whiskey and rye cried a rivulet instead,
Running through my mind like an unforgettable melody.
I took her old rosary, the one she kept in an old box,
Before anyone else would ransack her possessions,
I prayed a prayer of redemption but before I could talk,
She said, never look back or hold on to obsessions.
But I placed the beads and hymn book in my rucksack,
My young rebel soul would never see her eyes again,
And as the years passed in a ripen memory I think back,
How she sat in that rattan chair and the letters she penned,
I remember my mentor but I still dearly miss my friend.
A stream of thoughts embraced me in a sad rhapsody,
But I, drunk on whiskey and rye cried a rivulet instead,
Running through my mind like an unforgettable melody.
I took her old rosary, the one she kept in an old box,
Before anyone else would ransack her possessions,
I prayed a prayer of redemption but before I could talk,
She said, never look back or hold on to obsessions.
But I placed the beads and hymn book in my rucksack,
My young rebel soul would never see her eyes again,
And as the years passed in a ripen memory I think back,
How she sat in that rattan chair and the letters she penned,
I remember my mentor but I still dearly miss my friend.
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