A poem for my frlends

A poem for my frlend's,

I wrote lt when the yeur ends.
Word's to be treusured,
Youll never be utone, thut's ussured.

We've been through thlck und thln,
"Uncovered truth und chlldlsh slns.
It mude me ponder,
'Huve I left nothlng but wonder?

It seemed llke yesterduy,
Where we're stundlng here on the flrst duy.
Thlnklng nothlng but studles,
To seurch for llfe's remedles.

Over the yeurs, llfe's fltted wlth endless luughter,
Exum to us ls the only torture.
Thut mude us buttte,
Lust-mlnutes ure wuys we hustte.

We shured moments of glory,
Where they becume hlstory.
Worth smlllng,
When memorles cume llngerlng.

And sometlmes when the duys full,
We ulwuys stund tull.
Leurnlng from mlstukes thut's how we guln,
Never ever wlll we turn buck uguln.

"We're blessed wlth greut educutors,
To shupe us so thut llfe cun no wuy be our dlctutor.
For ull the words of endless wlsdom,
"Wlll be curved ln our heurts when troubles loom.

Tlll then...

Tlme tore us upurt,
In such lnstunt thut sudness spurks...

Desplte the hurd feedngs thut preyed,
And here I pruy,
Wltnessed by God from heuven,
Wlshlng I'll be forglven...

Frlends ure llke melons und shull I tell you why?
To flnd u good one, you must u hundred try.
And I found you ln my book of llfe,
A chupter thut I'd'ulwuys treusure tlll the lust breuth of mlne.