so many of us disappear, some
by choice
some
by intelligent
design,
but you miss them all the same,
the boy
who bragged
about himself,
seeking attention,
desiring fame.
the girl,
too pretty for her own good,
her face
perpetually in a mirror
as she
crossed her legs.
the others
who knew it all and let
you know
where you were mistaken,
perhaps misled.
the white
lies of another,
the stingy ones, the rude,
the unkind.
those so full of pride.
but you miss them all,
because so often
you too were of their kind.
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