My friend, my dearest friend,
Where could you have gone?
Not a word have I heard,
Perhaps you met the fate of Ghost John?
The fool who went to a foreign town,
Head held high and proud,
And caught the eye of local crime.
Oh, I worry at the thought of you at such a fate,
In the hands of kidnappers and thieves.


But it can’t compare with other thoughts I grieve!
I fear you may have gotten lost somewhere,
Growing so lonely that you start talking to your hair.
Alone and away from friends,
You suffer until the end….

I cannot bear these thoughts!
I am losing against the paranoia I’ve fought!
My friend, my dearest friend,
Where could you have gone?!?

What’s this?
A letter from my dear friend,
Placed on my desk, the clever miss!
“My friend, I am leaving on a trip.
I will be too far away to send word of lip,
But bear in mind that I will write before the month is up.”

Well, this is embarrassing.
Perhaps even shameful.
Whoever hears about this may call me laughable and weak,
But she’s my dearest friend,
Whom I haven’t heard from in a week.