There are people in this life
As we go passing by
That reach out and cling to us
As we do to them in-kind

A rubbing of the shoulders
Slight scratch that leaves a mark
Although some might go so deep
As to leave a scar

Some might call them memories
I believe it's more profound
Affecting of personalities
With every go round

So hang with those that help you grow
In this life of passing by
That reach out and cling to us
As we also do in-kind