A REQUIEM TO FRIENDS LOST
A line that has always brought to the eyes, tears.
A line as old as life itself,
But still as pure as gold in itself.
A line that reminds some of damage,
A line that becomes the tether to salvage;
For over the years, we've become to each other savage,
No more do we think of each other, as we have all now come of age.
“With great power comes great responsibility,”
Yet another line that would forever ring true.
Only in our case, age welcomes our responsibility,
And before we know, we're stuck in ourselves, forgetting the pacts we made when we were little.
And then time would pass, for it waits for no man.
And while we're busy figuring life out, and in the process forgetting each other,
Only to remember once in a while, how we had one another;
Only then might we think to reach out, but then be met with a shocker.
That one who we rode bikes with,
Now resides in a place we can't reach.
That one who we stoned lizards with,
Now has lizards crawling around his grave.
Think of that one we wrote Jamb with;
He tried reaching out, but we were busy and now he'll reach out from heaven.
Think of that one we got admission with;
His only mission now is to get to heaven.
Think again of that first friend in college,
Who you went everywhere with,
Battled the struggles of registration with,
On days you were broke, battled the hunger with.
He never stopped battling the hunger, you know?
After the first year, after you left him for cooler people.
He lost his focus. You were his inspiration, you know?
But you left and he couldn't match up to your people and so he left too.
He left to make a living on the streets,
But the streets made a living on him.
Yesterday, you passed by a bloated corpse in the gutter,
You couldn't believe your eyes, you thought you were a dreamer.
No you're not a dreamer,
You did see him in the gutter.
He needed your help, those years, to clear the clutter–
The clutter of insecurities and hopelessness and the feelings of insufficiency.
But you'd left.
It's fine though,
Twenty friends can't play for twenty years right?
I don't write this to say all our friends are dead,
I'm just asking that you reach out to those friends–
Those friends who wouldn't leave you for dead;
Those friends who you don't have to say you lost.
—Onwumah Ozed
©2020
A line as old as life itself,
But still as pure as gold in itself.
A line that reminds some of damage,
A line that becomes the tether to salvage;
For over the years, we've become to each other savage,
No more do we think of each other, as we have all now come of age.
“With great power comes great responsibility,”
Yet another line that would forever ring true.
Only in our case, age welcomes our responsibility,
And before we know, we're stuck in ourselves, forgetting the pacts we made when we were little.
And then time would pass, for it waits for no man.
And while we're busy figuring life out, and in the process forgetting each other,
Only to remember once in a while, how we had one another;
Only then might we think to reach out, but then be met with a shocker.
That one who we rode bikes with,
Now resides in a place we can't reach.
That one who we stoned lizards with,
Now has lizards crawling around his grave.
Think of that one we wrote Jamb with;
He tried reaching out, but we were busy and now he'll reach out from heaven.
Think of that one we got admission with;
His only mission now is to get to heaven.
Think again of that first friend in college,
Who you went everywhere with,
Battled the struggles of registration with,
On days you were broke, battled the hunger with.
He never stopped battling the hunger, you know?
After the first year, after you left him for cooler people.
He lost his focus. You were his inspiration, you know?
But you left and he couldn't match up to your people and so he left too.
He left to make a living on the streets,
But the streets made a living on him.
Yesterday, you passed by a bloated corpse in the gutter,
You couldn't believe your eyes, you thought you were a dreamer.
No you're not a dreamer,
You did see him in the gutter.
He needed your help, those years, to clear the clutter–
The clutter of insecurities and hopelessness and the feelings of insufficiency.
But you'd left.
It's fine though,
Twenty friends can't play for twenty years right?
I don't write this to say all our friends are dead,
I'm just asking that you reach out to those friends–
Those friends who wouldn't leave you for dead;
Those friends who you don't have to say you lost.
—Onwumah Ozed
©2020
Comments
Good job.