I will not talk in riddles,
I will not rhyme.
This is no fiddle,
this is not the time.

That was a lie,
Pardon me so,
A rhyme just gets me by,
so here I go.

Friendship takes fears,
or so I'm told.
they make me see clear,
as a path unfold.

I have had friends,
who saw me cry.
losing them is a trend,
now I wonder why.

I shall not forget!
and not lose sight!
there was this and that,
and there was also might!

That is the past,
as I sit here hollow.
where is my mast?
oh this be too mellow...

I have fresh tears,
for things of old.
friendship fears,
makes me go cold.

Far away I shy.
For now where do I sow?
I dare not pry.
Here; watching friends grow.