The day is immeasurably sad, time slowing down
my best friend is ill losing energy and cannot jump
up and down like before, no more furious political
diatribes, I miss his dissertations on beauty and
meaning - a philospher-poet teacher not giving
Lessons any more, when he checks my lines I feel
alive, visible and clearly existing - as his activities
slow down his eyes turn inside to watch the home
fires burn, though he still forwards jokes reminding
me not to take life seriously, the day is nauseating
As if his all-seeing Internet eye cannot reach any
more; I still tell him things, as he listens the answers
present themselves, but I need to do something more
tangible for him, force him to be happy again, insist on
his having fun the way solicitous people do - but now
I feel too sad to harangue him, sending him a helper
on a fast steed does not help him, he was too bright
and warm to cool down like this, he is my little tin
soldier balancing on one leg while helping me to
keep my balance also, and I cry - I want my
Tin soldier back!
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