![]() Perfect StrangersA Poem by Pete![]() The language of friendship is not words but meanings. - Thoreau![]() we met in the parking lot passing each other on the divided highway of the rooming house he adopted just turned sixty been drinking since he was fourteen says i'm his friend today i cleaned his room for him why? because he asked because i owe because i need to kill the uppity pride i wear like a prison uniform because i need some damned humility back in my life because he's he and i'm me because i need to learn how to be a true friend mountain of beer cans some empty most containing urine, vomit and spent cigarettes because that's the way it is ungodly smell bugs everywhere floor sticky doesn't matter how life broke us broken is broken doesn't matter how we each got here we're here perfect is a state of mind prayers come in bottles and cans too you're welcome mike my friend perfect stranger forever © 2020 PeteAuthor's Note
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Added on August 11, 2020Last Updated on August 12, 2020 Author![]() PeteBoston, MAAboutI love reading, writing, music, nature, God and feeling emotion, not necessarily in that order. To me, these things go hand in hand. My favorite writer is Henry David Thoreau. I think he was a geni.. more..Writing
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