Wild child, I'm sorry to say -
You must not crayon me no more
Nor can we place a time to play.
No longer can you be a hermit hardcore.
And why to your mother you protest so loud?
Do you not understand real is truly real?
Real friendship,
Is sung with a sweet sound
That time by time never loses appeal.
My time is a time of a man hanging on the thin tip
Of a crumbling cliff.
So just end me with a whiff
And now life you live.
J.R. Holmes
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/from-the-invisible-friend/
