Social Casualty.

As regards the Literature subject, we wrote a poem, in my case taking from "The Lost Woman..." by Patricia Beer, the idea of losing someone (in any sense, the pass away of a beloved person, how you lost contact with she/her, maybe how that also made you lose yourself..., etc).

Social Casualty.

My best friend left me on a sunday morning of August, 

under the soft crackle of rain, 

subtle as the indiscernible warning 

of her goodbye.

No tight hugs did I receive,

as those motherly which always reunite your pieces.

I had to conform with a bogus smile

and her jet black eyes, 

the key to her soul, 

locked tenaciously.

She wanted to bury the memory of us.

She escaped from our friendship.

She escaped when she made new friends.

She escaped when she tried to pretend the memory of us 

was like sand in her hands.

I escaped our friendship the moment

books became my only friends,

the traces of authors´ thoughts, 

the only conversations I had.

I escaped when Coldplay´s melodies

became all the stories I listened to.

Nevertheless, my eyes still catch hers,

locked under bars, 

though I can swear sometimes they

shine like stars, 

under the memory of what we used to be.

And whenever I see her

rushingly walking through the school corridors,

as if her legs were not rapid enough, I wish 

we weren´t just a social casualty.