Stitched

They raised their voices, sharp and loud,
swift storm of words, a heavy cloud.
Sharp silence came, the air grew still,
uneasy hearts, longing to heal.

In a deep breath and a step back,
they analyzed perceived attacks.
Illusions fell, all truths exposed,
ego soon fled, then decomposed.

One reached out, a gentle hand,
another sighed, began to stand.
A smile returned, the edges soft,
anger lifted to drift aloft.

They laughed again, the quarrel done,
together strong, many as one.
True friendship bends but does not break,
it always mends for love’s own sake.

– Grace Y. Estevez – Reddy