Foe and friend
Fought and bred
Wearing colors of rival
Choose all that I disclose
Make territory with treason

Hold fast to the purpose
On that same gray rock of reason
Old blue jeans and tennis shoes
On a nemesis found to be pleasing
Memories of dogs, bikes, and sandlot fights
In some silly visions while dreaming

Time has run out, like truth in a barrel
Closeness is avoided, like bad apparel
There is never enough fun, we both have agreed
Life blinds the senses, keeps one from seeing
We are friends put here for a reason
Till blood lines flow in this direction again
I once will say. "It was fun to be kin."

Copyright 1995 Robert Luttrell