Black Poetry : An Old Friend


Well-Known Member
Jan 30, 2001
It was so good to see her again
Though I remember her looking much different
Back then she was beautiful, radient, and alive
Before she became a slave to the pipe
That was back in '85

I remember that day 15 years ago
Seeing her on the stoop of that infamous house
It was then I decided to let out friendship go

Playing skin flutes for a three dollar rock
"Ain't no crack-head ho gonna be a friend of mine"
With disgust I looked at her
Jonesn' with no sorrow, no remorse
How shallow my judgement from atop my high horse

Over the years I'd hear this and that
How dope dealin' pimps keep turning her out
Boosting anything
Busted time and time again
Selling her body in front of her young children

I never really was a friend
Sadly, I think of that in shame
For if I truly was a friend
I would have tried to understand her pain

Pretending now to be her friend
Would be an insult to her survival without me
She's alive, still kicking, doing her best
One day at a time
Passing life's test

The best I can do is tell her now I can care
Should I ever have a chance to do it all over again
I'll not run and hide
I'll stay and be a friend


(c) Bruce H. Edwards, 1999


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Happy Thanksgiving everyone hope all is well
cherryblossom wrote on Joyce's profile.
Hello, Joyce! So sorry I missed you in 2020. Please come on back!