F is for for friendship; a lovely friendship that got me through good times and bad.
F is for four; how many years that friendship lasted and how many years I was thankful to have known such a person as you.
F is for fight; a stupid fight that errupted violently between us. Fists and words were hurled back and forth shattering the reality I cherished so much.
F is for fifty; is how long the rift lasted. Never ending. A bottomless rift that separated us. I tried to call and call but never found the nerve.
F is for forgiveness; something neither one of us managed to ever achieve. Instead all we achieved was salty tears and wounded hearts - at least I did.
F is for flowers; the flowers which I place on your gravestone everyday since you died. I will always remember our friendship and am always tortured by the thought that I could have done something to renew it but didn't.