I wonder time and time again
What really makes a friend a friend?
It’s not religion, name, or race.
It’s not the structure of their face.
It’s not appearance, fat or thin
I think it’s time, but how? And when?
I think it’s time, and laughs, and jokes.
I think it’s all the, “remember those?”
See, time is full of everything,
Memories, love, and joy, and pain.
Time spent together.
Time spent apart.
Times of turmoil.
Times of heart.
I hope that time is with my friends,
I hope that I can make amends,
For time I haven’t shared with them.
Friends forever, until the end…of time.
A Poet’s Qualm 