The Truth

We were strangers when we met three years ago;

we were friends when we parted after a week.

We were friends when we met again;

I was influenced by my friend’s voice a few days after.

My friend told me I was the best writer;

I did not believe my friend was speaking with deepest feelings

I was doodling when I wrote four lines and gave it to my friend;

and forgot that those lines existed a few days after.

I understood how much they liked my art;

when I saw a paper in my friend’s hands.

Unfolding it, I saw the same four lines;

which I had doodled a few weeks ago.

Those lines developed only to three stanzas;

and I dedicated it to my friend only.

Parchments and art may one day be gone;

but I am happy that I have a friend who will always stand by my side.

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