Quick starts and slow deaths

Who ever liked an open wound beneath a band-aid,

Stacked one on top of another, newer, prettier

Band-aid for band-aids.

It's not a straight road, a friendship

It's an ever extending tree of paths

Where if sometimes you're not too far lost

There's a chance allowed to walk back.

But I'll advise you to keep walking

These chances are a bane

To turn good men into addicts kept searching

To teach, we walk ahead but in disdain.