The years have spun, a tangled thread,
Where once we walked, now shadows tread.
A friendship forged in youthful fire,
Consumed by ash of angry pyre.

My fault, I know, in part I own,
The careless word, the selfish tone.
But blame, like dust, on both our hands,
A shared mistake on shifting sands.

I’ve grown since then, the lessons learned,
The sharp edges of anger burned.
Forgiveness blooms where grudges slept,
But chances lost, the distance kept.

A silent plea, unheard, unseen,
A whispered hope, “What might have been?”
The door stands closed, the lock in place,
A friendship lost, without a trace.

And though I yearn to bridge the gap,
The path is blocked, a missing map.
Acceptance now, the final plea,
To mend the cracks within me.