The Fear of Memories

I cannot tell you about my memories
For I fear that I will not give the whole story-
The best story, the funniest.
When my best friend died, he asked me to help him go
And tell him a memory that we shared,
The best story, the funniest.
And I stared at his small smile,
The puddles on the corner of 23rd and Douglas,
The vacancy of his pale face.
The duck that we caught was caught in my throat,
Those childhood days lingered as seconds ticked.
We laughed till we cried, and now I couldn't say a word.
He waited patiently. As always:Cancer.
The best story, the funniest story,
Is never the real story.
For the one time that I was asked to share,
I was too scared and remain too scared.
To relive that moment
When he asked me to help him go,
And tell him a memory that we shared
The best story, the funniest story.