from a friend

way back in school, a long long long long time ago in the year 2000. i sat in a literature class comprised of 18 students of which five were guys. there was H ( he may read this blog and pounce on me so no names) he was pretty erratic and had a love hate relationship going on with half the girls in HSC , he was crazy, as in literally crazy, he said whatever came off the top of his head and was loud but totally brilliant, somehow we became friends, we still are and he has a really prestigious position now in one of the drinks companies you know, bell lager , Nile special etc,
then there was O, O was my ally with his diary, a weekly that appeared on the school board every week...i had to take the bullet for him when a certain Mr. K almost suspended him for his very provocative diary entries that talked about school goings on but mostly about this annoying Mr. K. i was the editor -in-chief of the school magazine then and was responsible for whatever went up on the board. Those adventures and intimidations from the prefects body is for another day.
then there was Mr A i believe, he did music too, the first time i heard him play the piano, a self composed piece, i was blown away!
and there was another A who was really funny, but you never knew that with just looking at him, you'd easily dismiss him but he was a rib cracker.
then there was E who this blog post is about was my soul mate. he was a really quiet thoughtful introspective sort of guy, with a myriads of mood swings, unrest passions, sometimes i marvelled how a romanticist like him could live in our day. the 1500's suited him. we became friends after two incidents; when my poetry teacher made me read my poetry in the first lesson and i was seated with my good friend then who he was terribly infatuated with. he constantly shared his 'passion' with me everyday like a love struck Romeo...pining for love out of his reach. he was disturbingly shy;locking all his depth and intensity within so hard it depressed him, till i read my poetry and he got an outlet. he would write poetry , talk about his love in flowery language, then ask me to read it, correct it, panel beat it but i was awed by his writing, the imagery was sharp, intense emotion oozed from every letter making my own heart bleed, bring tears to my eyes...aaaah. though i told him he was a maestro in poetry, he still considered me better....
its been years now, and i perchanced to accept his FB request and we chatted about the goings on in our lives and i asked if he still wrote achingly nostalgic poetry like he used to, then he promised to write me one... and i got it down for y'all to read

When first we meet,
Will you thaw the tension with a smile?
Or perchance my feeble tale
Of how untainted the moment?

Time will make haste
Not a vowel must we waste,
Passers-by might pause and swerve
To avoid ruining the final embrace

plse get on to this blog she is my buddy and she needs to be welcomed to the blogger family.