Loyalty
He
may be six kinds of a liar,
He may be ten kinds of a fool,
He
may be a wicked highflyer
Beyond any reason or rule;
There
may be a shadow above him
Of ruin and woes to impend,
And
I may not respect, but I love him,
Because-well, because he’s my friend.
I
know he has faults a billion,
But his faults are a portion of him;
I
know that his record’s vermilion,
And he’s far from the sweet Seraphim;
But
he’s always been square with yours truly,
Ready to give or to lend,
And
if he is wild and unruly,
I like him-because he’s my friend.
I
criticize him but I do it
In just a frank, comradely key,
And
back-biting gossips will rue it
If ever they
knock him to me!
I
never make diagrams of him,
No maps of his soul have I penned;
I
don’t analyze-I just love him,
Because-well, because he’s my friend.
Berton Braley
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