I sit beside him
just sitting
There are no words
he cannot speak them I cannot think them
“Write them for me” …. softly his wife pleads

From what I’ve gleaned he’s a man of worth
Good mate great partner
Creative expressive jovial fun
He will be missed

But will I truly miss him?

I look at myself as this dictates I must
He liked me dopey as I am but do I?
and I wonder what I can improve upon

What is that?

When I didn’t know I didn’t think
of him, so wrapped up in myself
Does friendship bound us like a duty
to think of them even when we have so much else to?

I always thought it was a feeling
To know that even when I hate myself most
that someone else
- not duty bound by love or use -

So now as he dies
- Convicted victim by his own hand to mouth disease
He must hate himself most
But I don’t
I will miss him

~ adgray © 2007



Frankston, Australia

  • Artist
  • Artwork Comments 22

Artist's Description

In memorandum
of my mate _Frank
(15/05/55 ~ 12/08/07 – 2am)

and for the next friend …. and the next ….

FOOTNOTES ~ 12-08-07
[written 27-07-07
I’ve amended this from my first attempt. I had to; my friend Frank Peters died.
I didn’t get around to seeing him in the three weeks between him telling me in a mobile text – “the doc says I’m terminal” and this; his last day. I was going to see him tomorrow, if the car could get me there. Excuses, procrastination, my enemies.

What friend am I?
His wife said one of his mates.

She let me off the hook, telling me I could do nothing, telling me he didn’t really want to see anyone, telling me he wouldn’t have wanted me to see him so sick.

But I wanted to be there for him, for her, for him to know I would be there for her in his stead so that he could pass in peace.

Why did she tell me today? How dare I have that honour of knowing on this her hardest day of bereavement?

Or will that be tomorrow? When all her family has gone and she wakes up alone for the first time in twenty something years? And in the stark reality of morning she’ll know she will always be without him.

I hold no jealousy for her, no pity, just awe and, although they appeared just simple people in pleasant uncomplicated settled lives, I hold the utmost honour for her, for her courage and her dignity and because she held his love to the last.

I on the other hand am truly alone.
I could not think of one singular person beyond my first born that I could tell who would care that I had lost a friend
And not a solitary soul that I wanted to call on to come to me in my hour of need
I know now had he been alive, and it were some other friend that had died, Frank would have been there to hug me.

Empty, hollow, nothing pain, fills me; judges me and finds me seriously wanting; so empties me. I deserve no better; I am no friend; I am the void that empties others

I must change that, I must plug my leaks and offer myself to others ~
I must rely upon myself

Thank you Frank
for gracing my life
I will honour your memory
Your loving friend
Dopey Dora.

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