I don’t think I would mind
If I got sick from you
Because I’ve never seen you so happy
And I don’t know what to do
Your laugh almost put me to a stop
And the temple punch you struck
You always seemed so incredibly bitter
And just down on all your luck
So hearing you laugh in a way I’ve never heard
Even with your greatest friend
Made a small realization grow in my heart
That I don’t have the heart to see to the end
Because you hate college and “all that school”
But academia is my life
I think we’re both too proud to be good friends
Too much just taken in strife
But I think we could be glorious for a little
“Good Old-Fashioned Lover Boy” comes to mind
So I don’t think I’d care if you got me sick
I wouldn’t complain about being behind
Not one word about a sniffle or cough
Not one moan from an aching head
Even if your illness made me sluggish
Or confined me to my bed
Because I could rest back on the pillows and smile
Thinking about this strange little love
Of fighting, blood, friendship, and intensity
Wrapped in boxing gloves
***
A poem about friendship.
Alice Griffin Writes 