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Friendship Day

Friendship Day

2 mins
6.8K


The co-conspirators in every childhood escapade,

The fools, the smart-asses, the wicked mischiefs,

The screamers, the unrealistic romantizers, the helping hands,

The cribbing kind, the useless romantics,

The charmers, the one with all the antiques


No, they did not pick you when you fell

Albeit they slipped down with you

And you laughed together

At your own living hell

You loitered around penniless

But you had the luxury of time and boy did you make a mess


You stole things together, and broke that poor bloke's nose

Rang the bell and ran away from the nosy Mrs. Double Chin and fat elbows

You wept together and several times so

And also laughed till the belly ached

And you also got jealous

When Mom gave away a larger piece of your b'day cake

And you grew and life became more..


Oh how do I put..

It became more incomprehensible

The smart-asses left and so did the wicked kind

But they left something in you

Something unaudlterated

Some more came along

The intellectuals, the dream-catchers and the dilly-dallying kind

The borderline vexatious extistentials, the tech savvy minds,

The singers, the pokers, the jokers, the mad haters, the always on the phone kind


And Life went on, with balances and bills,

Maids and dishes, career and prestige

And familial dramas that sends R. R. Martin chills

Belly aches were still common

Sometimes from flatulence, often from extreme meriment

I theorized laughter was surely invented by a friend

You wept some in unison, this time the cries softened

And held each other tight and hugged each other often

They were no wizards they could not fix you

They know you are fallible

But that did not impede their love.


Well, what can you say, they were a little gullible

Clueless imperfect retards, en route a journey hand in hand

Isn't this what we call perfection?

The body may be under depredation

And the mind under amnesia

But the soul is satiated

With these fellow clueless mindless co-passengers

And with them these moments of redemption

This is for all of you, my dear retards

In so many ways I more you than I am mine

Childhood may have gone, but thanks to you

The child in me is still prestine


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More english poem from Dimple Mehta