I'm looking out over the places
Where I played football with my friends,
The places where we met
And the places where we fought
And the places where we made up.
And I realize
That I'm not crying for the places
But rather the people that I'm going to leave behind.
And while we all hug
And promise to keep in touch,
In truth I know that they'll
And my memories will recede
Into the corners of my mind,
Only to be conjured up momentarily
By a smell, or a familiar sound,
Leaving me grasping at a figment of a figment
Of a face, or a moment
And wishing that I could go back
To hedonistic summer days
And the friends who made my life complete.