Best Friends
You are my best friend
You have been for many years now
Rarely ever faught
Always knowing what was wrong
Just by our looks
But everything has changed
You, Him together
You seem so happy with him
Do you understand
What you and him do to me?
A poem begins as a lump in the throat, a sense of wrong, a homesickness, a lovesickness. It finds the thought and the thought finds the words.
Robert Frost (1875-1963) American Poet.
| Title | Comments | Submitted |
|---|---|---|
| Title | Comments | Submitted |
| Him | 2 | 05/26/2009 |
| Best Friends | 0 | 05/26/2009 |
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