Letter to a friend.

Mina, dear, friend of mine

you’re in the hospital, but you say you’re fine?

You have pneumonia, you’re coughing up bile,

you respond with “meh” as if apathy is going out of style.

Why are you so cool when your life is in your hands?

When there’s risk that you’ll soon be buried under those beachy sands

where you live, alone in Miami,

cut off from your parents, pretending you are happy.

Mina, dear, friend of mine

I could say that I love you and am concerned, but I’d be wasting time,

the words are lost on a heart so broken, from past wounds and all the hating words spoken.

Mina, dear, please please listen to me?

Take care of yourself and get better, just be

healthy again and happy and wise

and stay away from punks and bad guys.

And Mina, dear, I will still be praying

that somehow you’ll understand what I’m saying.

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Filed under All Poetry, General Poems

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