Yes, memories of a circle
That we kept in
Grand laughter, game board days
And probably small talks
With a depth
A refinement
Assuring my bruises
That high school
Was over

But Time
Time is a funny thing though
A factor
It pushes the gaps
Makes space
For rumors, For drifting apart
For false promises
For straight line barriers
Cutting across an open space
Across a familiar
Probably play room

Imagination made room
No, deception did
For a friend
That was his best
Now, means nothing
But an empty couch
In front of a TV
Near action figures
And snakes and ladders

In his basement
His hideaway;
Something has died in there
Ghosts of the toy soldiers
Who loved to die
For our alliance
Against the **** carpet
World

Circles, now an oval
Then two circles
Separated
Attempted osmosis

I was definetely a part
Now
I play, We have played
Apart