School Pals

Things will never be the same

As they used to be

When you were around

The chats we had

Would never be

Forgotten

Nor can I talk to anyone else

Like I used to do

With you. Though

We chat even now

But the media has changed

So has the conversations

The proximity, the reservations.

The picnics we went on

Are now places with

Fond memories

Calling me towards it

Everytime I look back.

The glass panes we broke

The candies we stole

All seem to call me

Again. And again.

But the busy season

Seems to have no mercy

On you, on me, on us

On those who

Waiting for us

To reciprocate, calling us

To get back to their laps

Those days hold themselves

So filthily fond memories

That I will never forget

Of the timeless, priceless, innumerable

Secrets we hold of each other

Will remain concealed

In each of our memories.

Foreva'

Old pals.

This isn't meant to last.