For Being There
(where a little vanity goes a long way)
< >

Other Verse

Recommend this page to Google ...

Some doggerel I wrote a very long time ago: making this poem into greeting cards and selling them on consignment in local drugstores.
An entrepreneur is born, nurtured by feeding off the corpse of the dying poet.
(Now, isn't that a romantic thought? Hhmm...)
This was originally published at: www.horsesense.ws/forbeingthere.htm

For being there ...
I am me.
I have a friend.
Sometimes we find
some time to spend.
We don't do much.
We sit and talk
Or, silent, share
an evening walk.
She has her life.
I have my own.
But side by side
we're still alone.
For I am me.
And she is she.
Still, somehow,
we make company.

She does not know what makes me blue
or why I act
the way I do.
She knows not why my heart exalts,
or why I cry
at pleasant thoughts.
She cannot share my lonely grief
but being there
is some relief.
She, smiling, nods and comprehends
that I am me,
and we're good friends.
~Mark A. Rector




 

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