"Aaron" by Thomas Rogers

I can clearly see you across the playground our first day of school,

although, forty-two years have passed. We fast became best of

friends, riding the range of our school yard chasing down wild

renegades, cattle rustlers, and thieves.

As we grew, we had our first taste of sin. At the age of eleven, we

drank our first beer and smoked our first pack of cigarettes, chased

down by five cigars, all within an hour and a half. We both became

a cool shade of green as we turned inside out.

We later chose a path entangled with an array of alcoholic

beverages and other mind bending substances. Rebels, forever

determined to live this way. Strong, young, invincible, and

immortal, unaware our foggy path would lead to death.

We lost so many friends to drugs and alcohol, the two things we

loved and swore allegiance to became so sinister, trapping us both.

Though we pledged to be friends forever, we suddenly grew apart.

The deception and lies of addiction took their toll.

I chose life and found freedom through Jesus Christ along with

new direction. Hope returned, and new opportunities appeared.

You saw the benefits of a heart made right, but apprehensively

stayed on the familiar path of your youth. You chose death.

The last time I seen you alive, the choice you had made had etched

it's cruel lines on your face. The loneliness and hardship of the path

you chose was so evident on your form, aged beyond your years,

a distorted shadow of life, once tall, proud, and filled with dreams.

Only weeks ago, I heard through an old friend you had died. My

heart sank to a new depth I had never imagined possible. I rode my

bike to the cemetery in which we had carried so many loved ones.

I searched tearfully, but never found your grave.

Every time I pass through our old town, I look for you. I hope to

see you walking down a familiar street smiling, once again tall,

proud, and full of dreams. Deep in my soul I know that will never

be. I love you and miss you Aaron, my old friend.