Dreams Of Young People
Thursday, March 22nd, 2007It was many years ago that I met my friend. I was nineteen and he was twenty-four. We were going to art school in Pittsburgh, finding ourselves, discovering ourselves. My friend was older, he was wiser than I. I was wise beyond my years. The love we had for each other was never spoken, until the end, but throughout our lives it was proven by our actions. When we were young, we were inseparable, we thought our friendship would endure forever. Our eighties would be spent on a front porch somewhere, sitting in rocking chairs, smoking pipefulls of weed. The dreams of young people. The expectation that life will serve me and last for us.