unfinished

To all my friends, who've been lost in time...
I wish it weren't true.

Our conversations have become... something of a mystery.
Short and quick, if any at all, ironic to think how far we've come;
just to turn around again, strangers in the distance.

It feels awkward, the way you talk, as if you don't know me;
as if, you don't want to know me, we part.

Weeks go by, saying hi, once in awhile,
we pass by, without a word, it's slow decline - final.

Two strangers pass one another on a street, their shoulders glance off one another,
their looks are quick, somewhat angry, they continue on.

We don't know each other any more, questioningly, we never did.
I miss my friends, their happy cheer, what's filled with a vacuous silence irks me.

Goodbye, my friend, our love, once shared, is gone.