Every five

Five was a bike rolling down the hill, carefree happy days with plenty of will
Ten, two move,s and the second lot of new made friends, to make.
Fifteen oh to move again.

Friends left behind.Unhappy in this time, the life that was getting destroyed.
Crying for weeks and weeks must of been hard to see.
 If it was someone different it would be good.
But No it was the Friends left again.
Left school early, work it was to be, but 1st breakdown at 17..
Up again like Jack, Lots of carefree acts, baby, illness, new friends again to be made,
 Most never stayed as they didn't know how to cope or what to say.
I can't throw any blame,
Oh Baby illness was 23... and time to grieve.
Hospitalized for months with bouts of ECT - It set me free
Time to leave and starting again was the story for me.
The surprize to all was a marriage ending a day short of 3. But not for me.
Criky there is really no wonder now for me, reading back in poem what friends mean to me.

The Friends I have mean the world to me.