LAST BEST FRIEND

we all remember our first best friend, and easily recognize who is our last ...

You are my last best friend,

never hearing what I say, the first time,

taking too long to do anything,

giving me more to do than I’d like.

 

You are my best, best friend

about whom I have no choice,

or I’d just choose you anyway.

It was always thus, and so it will be.

 

It’s just fine with me, what little hair you’ve parted,

how you can’t help but laugh,

but still deny that you’ve farted.

Even so, you are my best friend.

 

We know the same stories, tell the same lies

about this time and that, so far in the past,

who knows where the story ends and the lie begins?

If we knew, we’d keep it between us friends.

 

We’re friends on a park bench feeding the birds,

watching pretty girls walk pure-bred dogs.

'That’s a fine one right there -- well put together.'

We know our stuff, we do, me and you.

 

Just best friends who share a little nip,

or sometimes a tip on the latest news

when the weather permits our indulgence

of feeding the birds, watching the girls.

 

And then there may come months of snow and rain

before budding blossoms and birds of spring

bring us back to our bench again, how many times?

Feeling not older, only glad to meet once more.

 

But the oddest thing, to tell the truth

is we’ve talked about the Army and our jobs,

our wives and kids, the presidents and the wars,

but to speak your real name is surely beyond me.

 

You are no doubt, my best friend; I’ll see you today,

hold up my umbrella to cover your head,

share this cardboard to cover your seat, too

on our park bench where for you I have waited.

 

Raining or not, today, you’ll appear

and tell a tall tale of your important dealings

and I’ll top that, with what you missed

so far today, and yesterday … and last week.

 

Beggars and vagrants and lonely hearts stop by,

ask to be seated; I try not to sound mean.

But this seat is taken, I say, waiting for you.

'My best friend is coming,' I tell them all.

 

It’s been a week since you were here

I won’t give up your seat.

There’s room for just two; just me

and for you, when you get here, my friend.

 

But now the raindrops are heavy,

our cardboard seat cover soaked.

The thing to do now is leave, go in now

and be back tomorrow … see you then.

 

Right? I mean, I couldn’t have it --

You laughing at me, your best friend in the world,

saying I don’t have enough sense

to come in out of the rain … right?

 

Besides, you’re not here; I know you’re not coming.

Our time on this bench is gone now, done.

I know where you are; you save me a seat.

You tell them about me, your last best friend.

Reviews

[Bubo]

I felt like crying reading this...........when I think of the homeless people, and those good enough to take the time and befriend them, realise these people are such good souls, who are just down on their luck. Such wonderful emotion throughout, and description of a man that took you on a different journey in life.........and shared.........the end was breath taking and bought a lump to my throat.
I wrote a piece some time ago called "The Forgotten One" on here if you ever get a chance.
Superb poetry.

[KatiePie]

This was so breathtakingly beautiful, and the story is so sad, I literally almost cried. At first as I was reading it I thought that the poem was going to be about the trials and the things we overcome by being with our best friends but as the story progressed and how it changed towards the end was heartbreaking but gorgeous in all of its sadness. If I read something like this everyday before I started my day, I think the results of my day would turn out so differently, so much better, and more productive. Its amazing how you've captures the trials we go through in dealing with friends, but in the end, we know its worth it, in the end we'd stand in the rain for days at a time, just to see their faces and know they're alright, I hope I'm not totally off with the concept, but that's what I got from this. Great write. I loved reading it. :)
-Cathrine

[Ladysue]

Wow, this was quite moving. I could feel the emotion. the ending heartbreaking, yet hope of meeting again. This brought tears to my eyes. A very accomplished and poignant write...

[Ed Hart]

i'd sit on a park bench with you any day, every day