If I could smile forever, would it be a blessing or torture? The relics of my past lay here, ready to plunder. Sort through the objects of murk, cast aside the intense, vile need to drink, the sunken images, the dishevelled bed, the catastrophic thoughts only I can see.
If I smiled at you, day-in, day-out, would you believe me worthy, would your infatuation remain devout? If I trust my intuition, making wise, well-formed decisions, would I ride by without guilt and indecision, always smiling unto the morning?
Flowery, happy moments, where our moods and our words would bounce and leap around, our eyes playfully locking with the other’s, as we smiled and pranced, our voices singing in unison, such a joyous sound.
I remembered how happy we were, where we would spend all our spare time together; you’d visit me in the various locations in which I’d lived, and my goodness, the fun and mischief we’d always seem to find.
The days and nights which were happily managed, when the sun arose it was too soon for the dawn.
We would explore the world in its exciting realm of darkness, the music thumping loudly in our ears, and our eyes dancing this way and that searching for other people to approach and learn more of.
I’d always be too shy to get onto the floor for a dance, but you loved to move so fluidly, your limbs shifting so freely.
But, we grew apart, for each of us there were differing trends, different paths we chose: some to be proud of, others not so much, but in the end, there were decisions and results of great commendation.
Because we both succeeded in our own ways, and while we do not speak, and perhaps we will never see one another again, at least I can hold the memories in my heart, strong, proud and true,
that I had someone, a former great friend in my life who had stuck around longer than most of the people who were in my world had proven to.
Lauren M. Hancock Poetry and Prose 
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