My best friend isn't here right now, and no she isn't dead.
It's because we haven't spoken, no not one word has been said.
My best friend isn't here right now, and it's all because of me.
I set her aside for another girl, we just could not be.
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I have a similar piece myself in my poems. You just keep wondering sometimes 'should I have turned left at Albuquerque? ' Oh well, c'est la vie! And there's only one way to go: Forward. Good poem. Amicalement votre, Ronberge
Why not get in touch with her and tell her how you feel?