I saw an old friend of mine today
I wonder if I can truly state that I have old friends
As I am neither old nor, necessarily, a good friend
And I wonder whether you would consider me a good friend.
I speak not of the friend I shared Edo with
But I speak of the friend who dared to be great
Whose aspirations rose above what I could have imagined
And whose dreams spread faster and smoother than nutella on bread
It was she who made me think that I could be something more than I am
But I doubt she remembers me for who I am
I doubt she remembers me for what I could be
Instead she remembers the memory of me
Waving goodbye to a school that she could not let go of
Saying goodbye to a friendship stronger than I could have imagined.
It makes me sad now to think that I can no longer call on her
And tell her how proud I am
Inspired I am
In awe I am
but also how pissed off I am
that we never could keep in touch.
So instead, to her, I raise a cup of hot chai,
something we both enjoy,
to tell her that she will always be in my heart
and that she will always amaze me.


