ANECDOTES

What is temporary and what is permanent
If we had all the answers,
Won't we be impertinent
to all the fate's favors.

Crisp like the winter air
was his presence
becoming on me was his essence.

Troubled eyes and sharp wit
How can I forget
his diligent insight.

A recital in his own
he told stories unknown

A figment of imagination
a momentary phase
Enticing and enthralling
our story propelled.

If my dreams were to be produced
He would be the director
Of my theatrical debut,
He would be the creator.

The fictional element
in my non fictional life
Ceased to exist
as the climax was reached

A mystery himself
He disappeared slyly
What Enigma!
What clandestine exit!

Now that I rewind the tale
He was never meant  to dwell

As we all know:
Not all stories are meant to last
Most are Anecdotes that always leave a cast.

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