You’ve Got A Friend

We love the teenager’s earnest first album, unfettered
by the lilt of a head at a concert off campus,
the flirting curves of possibility.

Their flawless lust and heartfelt promise, before
the prick of success and nights indulged in rooms
they should never lie down in.

We love the braggadocio of a world-view cradled
in a journal by everything we know they can’t
yet know, the scrawls of innocence.

Oily face and awkward fingers pluck a guitar string,
shouting, without a doubt, chords, they’re assured
can change a mind, change everything.

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