It seems that those,

who will know you best,

love you most,

and hurt you less,

always end up closest to your heart,

but furthest from the rest.

It feels as though

pieces of your soul,

are scattered to and fro.

And though you try to keep them close,

life bends, and steals, and pulls.

Why were kindred spirits given wings?

Why were they made to fly?

Why, does it seem,

in spite of all our want or need,

kindred spirits, were made

just to say goodbye?