PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

In proximity of our homes, we both grew,  

Neighbors close, yet distant too.  

We shared some laughs and sunny days,  

But never quite friends in our causious ways.  

One Saturday, the sun was bright,  

He painted his house, a lovely sight.  

With a brush in hand, I joined right in,  

Colors splashed on walls, a joyful spin.  

We climbed the ladder, reached for the sky,  

Laughter and chatter as time slipped by.  

We worked all day without saying a word, side by side,  

But when we were done, no thanks supplied.  

He never asked for my help, it’s true,  

Yet I offered my hand, just to see it through.  

The fresh paint gleamed, the house looked new,  

Yet no gratitude, just a glance or two.  

I stepped back to admire our work,  

His quiet nod felt like a quirk.  

We played in the sun, youth so clear,  

But my heart never called you dear.  

We talked of weather, life outside,  

Yet friendship unspoken, we hide.  

As we grew older, trees so tall,  

Roots close together, no bonds at all.  

I wonder, dear neighbor, do you feel,  

Do you call me friend, or just surreal?  

In the quiet night, world so still,  

I think of our past and our will.  

Though we've shared much, a wall stands tall,  

A barrier of silence, we fall.  

So here in my heart, you remain,  

A neighbor, a ghost, yet no pain.  

Yet still, I cherish those days near,  

For even in distance, warmth is here.

Rolando Matias