Goodbye Poem by Teens

Poem About Moving Away From Best Friend

I wrote this poem about my best friend and I having to part ways when my father lost his job. I grew up in a small town, and if I wasn't at his house, he was at mine; we were essentially brothers. I was 12 at the time of this, and now I'm 16. Looking back, the move was one of the hardest things I've ever done. Going to a new place was hard for me, because I was born with a defect in my left hand, which really makes it hard for me to meet new people. He was my best friend, and still is today.

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I Still Remember

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Published: September 2015

I still remember
Those mid-summer evenings
When we'd swim with the stars,
Or those muggy-hot ball games
We played in your backyard.
Never did I think I'd leave,
Never once in our twelve years,
But life has an uncanny way
Of bringing you to tears.

I still remember
Coming home to see that pink note
And my father's weary face.
I knew then and there that
This wasn't my forever place.
My days were numbered by
That very instant in time.
Little did I know then,
I had slowly lost my spine.

I still remember
The look on your face
When I told you I was leaving,
Back in seventh grade.
The friendship we spent so long achieving
Was soon to be
Five-hundred miles apart.
"But you can't," you would whimper quietly.
"But you can't."

I still remember
The last night in that town.
We spent it together-you and I, together in my second home,
As you would seldom cry.
"I just can't believe it," you'd mumble between sobs,
"My best friend in the entire world is leaving me behind."
That night I cried myself to sleep,
Imagining the fun times
I'd never get to see.

I still remember
My view out of the rear car window
The very next morning,
As your family waved to me
As if grieving our parting friendship, mourning.
You waved one hand, "Be strong," you thought,
Wiping the tears while saying goodbyes.
Our future together was severed
Right before our very eyes.

I still remember
Hearing you cried all night the day I left,
"Why'd he go?" you would whisper.
I wept all the way down
To my new home,
Knowing it could never be better
Than my second family or their home.
I was angrier than ever
And I used pray and ask God, "Why?"

Years have passed, and I still remember
Those mid-summer nights
And the memories made before that day in December.
And now when I go back home and we drive around,
We're together again,
The Lost Kings of the small town.



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