When Next We Come To Meet

A short poem concerning regrets about the demise of family relationships

When Next We Come To Meet
By GL Morris

I used to see you, in happier times, in younger days, in casual fashion
When we were young, and had no teeth, and cherished love, and made it count
Remember Uncle, remember friend, remember brother, or does it matter?
It did to me, but since you freeze I’d rather bask in heat

In better days we laughed, we played, we courted crisis, we struggled
We had a bond and life went on, too fast and much too full of woe and grief
It threw a wedge between our souls; it sent us on our polar journeys
But what of it, they say that’s life, to me it is defeat

Roll over now and play as dead, forget the past you’ve come to fear
Thus drain the life out of your bosom and frolic in your plastic state
I choose to dwell in entity, though smarting it may fairly be
At least I can look you in the eyes, when next we come to meet