Love Not Always Spoken

My days and nights may not always contain you
Filled with grandeurs seeking truth and self
The world will spin your stories outside my view
To be placed upon a distant, dusty shelf.
We were crammed into one room once: musty, hot,
splitting oxygen, awake and silent in the dark
Like cells stewing amongst a blistering clot
Pending separate journeys destined to embark
The wind will call us, cast us, scatter us
And time will change the lives we knew.
Our memories together stacked neatly on a truss
with seldom occasions, long nights, keeping things true.
    I'll always be willing to sit, in silence or noise
    With my brothers, raised together: The Four Boys.