Sunday, January 29, 2017

On Friendship: Part IV

To Zend: A poem about our relationship

I had a friend
His name was Zend.

I told him to fend
for himself and thend

our friendship was rend
to a complete end.

To go back and mend
a letter I could send

but I'd have to bend
over backwards. That, I don't intend.

Oh Zend
Why didn't you contend
and dis-recommend
our end?

If only my penned
letter could extend
you my hend.

I depend
on you, Zend.
No more pretend.
Can I come over next weekend?

No? I am offend-
dend.

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