Even if it Becomes Less Important

He was a good friend.
Dearly missed.
Always ahead of his years;
Ok, not always.
I didn’t want to hear it.
He told me so confidently,
Rock hair glowing angelically,
In a dark corner of London dreams.
You always have to have a dream, he said,
Even if it becomes less important.
I didn’t want it to become less important.
I wanted to live off of it forever.
He knew.
You were right, man.
I still can’t let go though,
Can’t make it less important.
I struggle as a result, sure.
Or have I made it less important?
Not really sure where I am,
You always knew where you were.
You had the knack
& pulled up a bar stool with me whenever you could.
Cheers Cain!

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