For Whom Else But a Friend?

The other side of my own door,

All with the rain's own sad downpour,

Standing are two with both feet sore,

Paitently wait forevermore.

The two remind me of a time,

When the sunshine was so sublime,

Of when I did not have to climb,

Through all of this old muck and grime.

This time I could not miss my chance,

To the two I do then advance,

And open up to catch the glance,

Of friends in any circumstance.

I hope with them to reconcile,

and say I'm sorry for a while,

The two bring me from my exile,

Now I greet them with a bright smile.