Is that you my friend?
Or shouldn’t I call you one?
You have changed so—
Your hair, your smile, I hardly know—
Where are the dreams and the beliefs
That we once shared and dared?
Is that you gazing at me? A strange and tired reflection,
Trying to reach out through the mists of time—
Prodding me, stirring my memory—
No, I know you not; you are a stranger—
Yet a light in your eye seems to beckon me and tells me you are not.