Somewhere in that Lane. . .

Somewhere in that lane,

Lives my childhood friend.

We’ve lost touch over the years

For we’ve our own lives to tend.

As I pass her lane quietly,

Happy memories flood in,

I want to visit her

But lack of time holds me in.

I carry on to my workplace

 mentally deciding to give her call.

But I get bewitched by life again

And eventually forget it all.

On a Sunday, cosy on the couch,

I skim through my friends’ list.

I stop at her phone number

But arrogance entraps me in a cyst.

She can call too,

I stonily mumble.

She has my number

AND my address, I grumble.

One fine day news reaches me,

“Your childhood friend lives no more.”

Of her chronic illness I learn

And the shock shakes my very core.

My stony heart now cries for her,

My cheeks burn with self hate.

When I could, I didn’t care

And now it’s too late.

Somewhere in that lane,

Lived my childhood friend.
Now I lay in remorseful darkness
with my ego to amend.