Friendby Harvest McCampbell
they yearned to make of me a possession a pet a trophy a doll a servant a thing other than what i am myself
the one i can't quite forget offered simply to be my friend
and as imperfect and improbable and impossible as it has become
i am still his friend
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volume 10(6)This poem is copyright © 2/26/06,
Harvest McCampbell, all rights reserved.
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