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Nite Jan 2015
My friend is an amazing poet!
You see, I never knew
Till recently when he showed me a piece
While we were out for a tea date that was way overdue

We used to talk about everything and anything
My friend and I, we have many things in common
We'll talk about Star Wars, music, movies,
TV shows, shoes
Even books from James Clemens

But we stopped hanging out a while back
Even though we still see each other daily
We hardly talked, we drifted apart
We were so busy but I did miss him greatly

One day I noticed that he had this vacant look in his eyes
And I knew that he must be troubled
For although he was smiling at everyone
I felt this urge to look out and catch him if he stumbled

So after bugging him for a gazillion time
That we needed to catch up
He finally agreed to go out for tea
Where we talked with no one to interrupt

We talked and talked like we used to
Time passed slowly as our cups of tea and cigarette butts cluttered the table
Then he showed me a poem he had written
Which left me speechless and looking at my new idol

Wow! He sure can write
His writing is so inspiring it touches the soul
I felt ashamed sitting next to someone such as he
Someone who could turn his words into gold

So I would like to thank him for sharing this part of his life with me
I know my poem can never be as good as his has been
But hopefully he'll find this pleasing
Thank You Ryn!!!!
Wrote this over a couple of months. Tried my best to do justice to this amazing, gifted friend of mine. Here's to many more years and cups of tea together!  Hope you like it!
Thank you for inspiring me to start writing again! Oh and I'm happy that we're hanging out again!
Forgotten Dreams Jun 2014
I could never be a poet,
I don't seem to have a way with words.
They don't flow like a river...
Or come to me on a breeze...
I just stumble upon them,
Purely by mistake.

I could never be a poet,
Because my work is just for me.
Call me selfish...or stupid...
To both I would agree,
Because I seem to spout stupidity,
And I keep it all to me...

I could never be a poet,
My words are not beautiful nor smart,
So I look to you in awe,
Your words drifting along,
Fitting together perfectly...
Because you, my friend, are a Poet.

— The End —