Building a Fence

I wondered what my friend was doing

He asked if I wanted to get drunk and write some poetry

Normally I do it alone, figured it would be nice to have some company

He just needed to finish his fence

I was not quite sure what he meant by that at the time

Waiting, as the fence got higher

And longer

Until I could no longer find my friend

I called out to him

Tried contacting him,

Starting with a joke or two

Then about what we were drinking

Where we should meet

What time?

He never answered

Maybe it was one of those metaphorical fences

The kind that never quite gets completed

Just added to and appended

Fixing a few of the wholes

No, the fence was real

I could touch it with my hands

In desperation I started to climb

Higher and higher

Calling out his name

Beyond the point where I expected no answer

Eventually, I wondered if there was ground

It had been so long ago that I had started climbing

In an attempt to reach my friend

Lost in the clouds , it started to rain

I lost my grip, hurtling to the ground

Yeah, it was still there

MY friend was not

So, as my blood slowly poured out from numerous wounds

With a frantic effort I began writing a few verses

Maybe he would still come along at some point

And while we may not be able to write together

Find this poem and become inspired

As he may no longer consider himself my friend

I still call him my friend

Vainly hoping for an answer