This Being an Ode to a Man Whom I Once Knew

This I wrote about a friend of mine, during a period when we weren't speaking after a disagreement; of course, the situation was only temporary and so the feeling which motivated me to write this is long gone. I do hope, however, that it so much as passes for a work here; I'm aware my inexperience shows itself rather boldly in my work to date.

THIS being an ode to
a man whom I once knew.

Though our days of knowing now are through

And our times of joking, laughter, joy – oh, those too

Are drowned in the sorrow of this

This being an ode to a man

Whom I once knew.


Ever-more coarse grows the river of tears

All hope but silenced among feather-light fears

That weigh down the shadow of him, the man

Whom I once knew.


Immersed is the forest we used to haunt

Its trees now grey, gargoyle and gaunt

And in clearings flooded, with paper-thin eye

Sits the reflection – now haggard, rotten and died –

Of the man

Whom I once knew.


Alas that man he is no longer.

But instead a pale murmur who the heartless may ponder

To have belonged to their ranks –

Or, perhaps –


Or, perhaps not.




For he is no longer

The man

Whom I once knew.

The End

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