JoshuaA Poem by ConstanceA tribute to the greatest platonic friend a girl ever had.Joshua, we walked again today Along that shadowy street within my mind One of those pilgrimages to nowhere But the words we so needed to share With the only one who'd understand
When we were not chasing chemical highs To find naught but depressive lows We lived in our own private language Shuffled spent into my house at sunrise To lie together in a way none understood
Joshua, you taught me what I should need In any lover, or any friend that I shall find For we enjoyed a simple loving bond Stronger than what most are capable of Understanding beneath burden of passion
I remember that day when we tried to kiss Because they all thought that we should Our friends and former lovers, so envious That we could have a simple love, unfettered But we laughed so loud- they wouldn't understand
Joshua, you told me I was the one light In a world of darkness and I wanted To let those words make me believe We were two silver chains linked for eternity By the ions only you and I understood
We changed, and nothing? lasts forever Not even friendship, or so they say And so we set out on different paths After years of traveling through life Together, seeking hope, faith, understanding
Joshua, my beloved boy who was a friend For years within my mind you've remained Sauntering down the quiet street beside me Ah! you shall until I see the final sliver, as life sets And I'm trying now to understand the why...
Friends can't stay just friends forever If they've become a woman and a man Needful of more than "just a friend" Oh, we knew we weren't meant for "more"- And knew our physical lovers wouldn't understand
Joshua, the love that we had is only Sanctioned to be between children and kin For most of society feels platonic connections Alone cannot really be shared by souls like ours... Which leads me to conclude: I'll never understand.
© 2008 ConstanceAuthor's Note
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Added on June 22, 2008Last Updated on June 22, 2008 AuthorConstanceA Small Town in, KSAboutI write about my past, my own real experiences. Even my poetry is inspired by my life. I was, I suppose, born writing, making up stories and rhymes from about when I started to speak, but had to wait .. more..Writing
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