Skip to content

Crashing Streams of Change | Moulton A. Mayers

An Old Friend

An old friend, as pretty as a star, drifted back into my world:
Her eyes; filled with tears; is a charming, intriguing poem—
A poem, regretting the false steps of the past that can never be corrected.
Oh, the screaming moments of false, forbidden love; lost in the chasm of the past,

Those dolorours, remorseful moments that never should have happened;
But though they are like buckets of water, dashed away, it’s good to see you again anyway. At least, the flower of thy breast is exclusive now, and disloyalty’s stain has faded. You’ve drunken the poison of unfaithfulness and have returned to life again. Oh, dear lady, fold thy body’s flaps together: Release them only to me again.

An old friend, lost in a stream of worries—worries about this, and that, and the other. Oh, life’s strange moments that divide friends and dry up love’s golden kisses: Somehow or other; lost people, in the fog of silly moments; lose everything.
But alas, time and age often bring reason that wake them up and call them back home; and alas, there is no place like home—and there will never be.

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *