Friends aren’t different nor alike,
Each strange in their leather body
With lots of desire,
And dreams that don’t retire

For years, they move around with a bare existence
Treading along those primrose path of dalliance
Fighting with themselves using a rare resistance
Ignoring the marigolds in sun’s radiance
And, missing good God’s gift in abundance

With friends, we walk on the road of eternity
To the heavenly city
But, whenever a friend from us, does part
A famine is created of all sort

A truth it is,
Strangers become friends and friends become strangers.
For,
Now-a-days, it is hard to find, life’s rangers.