Like a brave bamboo tree,
you swayed and suffered
a storm harsh and cold.
But still, you stood by me.
Countless times you fought
the battles meant for me.
In the end, I had lost
but still, you ne'er left me.
My friend, when I die,
remember me with a smile.
I say this with mischief in my eye,
"For cake's sake, thou shall not cry!"
Cast the sadness away,
your heart need not worry.
For like the brave bamboo tree,
I'll stand by you, wherever I may be.
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YOU ARE READING
Spilled Ink
PoetryA piece of soul in ink, and unto the paper it spilled. A collection of thoughts that rhyme from a wandering mind.
