Prose From the Soul: Pieces From the Past

For The Boys –

Tomorrow we grow another day older –
the Earth moves another turn around the sun 
and this is life – one day at a time. 
This is us, all day, every day. 

We grow, we age, and, hopefully,
we live and we learn,
we laugh, and if we are lucky,
we get to love a little bit along the way.
Hopefully . . .

I remember reading,
“No one knows the hour or the day;
not the Angels in Heaven,
and not even The Son. Only the Father knows.”

I suppose this is true. 
I suppose that I’ve decided to remove the religion from this
and take this at face value
No one knows the hour or the day.
At least, not really.

But, there is one thing that I know
which I know for certain
and I know this with all of my heart;
and this is that life is an eventual and inevitable. 

I know that nothing is ever promised
or guaranteed. 
Therefore, for all intents and purposes,
the only choice we have
is to live now
and make this count.

We only get one shot.
Might as well make it mean something. 


All we have is now.
All we have is each other –
that is, of course,
if we still want each other,
which I do.
All we can do is live for right now
Better yet, all we can do
is honor this one simple idea:
Time waits for no one.

I do not write this as a result of recent news
but more so,
I write this in honor of an old friend
who passed away not too long ago.
I write this because
time happens and so does age.

Whether we will be close today or tomorrow
is unknown.
But of all things we can be sure of,
I know that we can be sure of this:
You never forget the kids from the neighborhood

It’s true, we were young once. 
Crazy too
And it baffles me sometimes;
it baffles me to think
about how we used to be
and the things we did together. 

More accurately, it amazes me. 
It amazes me to think about what we lived through
or how we survived.
We were young – or,
unforgivably young to be exact
no remorse/no repent. 

I shake my head when I think of this, 
I laugh too. 
Then I roll my eyes and say,
thank God that we survived.

In spite of our best efforts . . .
we made it through to the next round
(so-to-speak)

I laugh at the fact
that we honestly thought we knew it all.
And now we’ve grown; and dare I say it
or dare I use the “A” word –
we’re “Adults,” now.
We’re grown
and this is what amazes me the most.

We’re the same kids
who ran through the streets
or went wild in our crazy little town
and somehow, we’re parents now.
Go figure . . .

The same kids that climbed up onto the roofs of schools like
McVey or Woodland,
or smoked and drank cheap beer
or those who fought or rumbled
or those who heard the cell doors roll shut
or hung around behind Barnum Woods
and Parkway, or The Wiz
or those who took “the purple ones”
the double barrels, or who dangled on “the nod”
or the old rebels from the town –
These are the ones
who are dropping their kids off at college now.
(Imagine?)

We have families now.
Some of our friends are grandparents.
We have jobs.
We pay bills
We pay taxes.
We’ve become like normal,
everyday, citizens. 
(who’d have believed it?)
We’ve become successful in our own right

Truly, I tell you that I have not forgotten you. 
Nor will I ever forget anyone 

With all of my heart,
I tell you this
I will always remember the kids from the neighborhood.
And should a time come
or if a moment appears when the world is lonely
or if the news comes
and the evening of your life is at hand,
just remember something,
I am always on your side.

I am sending this out into the Universe
and offering this to you, specifically
because you were a part of my life –
I was a part of yours
and thus,
We will always be boys
young, crazy,
and unforgivably wild.

Crazy as it was,
or for whatever this might be worth;
if we were friends then
then we’re still friends now

I am not trying to pretend that our friendships
are any different
from what they were.
All I am saying is there was a time once,
long ago, and I remember it very well ~

I got hit with a taste of nostalgia yesterday.
There’s a song that I listen to
when I reminisce
to let the emotions flow.

“A time it was, and what a time it was,
it was . . .

A time of innocence

A time of confidences . . . 

Long ago, it must be

I have a photograph

Preserve your memories

They’re all that’s left of you.”

As I say my humble goodbyes
Or regard the friends of my youth
I think of the friends who I have not seen
or spoken to in a long time –
or to those who’ve passed away and
to them, I say this
I remember us well,
long ago, it must be.


Just wish I had a photograph . . .

To those of us who remain
let’s carry on
to those who have gone
Rest well –
The kids from the neighborhood.

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