The morning hath sunshine The night, a dollop of silver moonlight The mirror, when one stands before it Hath a reflection That feels it's emotion And so do I have A perfect connection. They say that life is Akin to a play, Where actors enter and exit at will. I dare to disagree. My life is but a melody And melodies are made of many voices, Instruments of countless choices. Each one can choose to Complement or counteract My silent song. But if another voice shall choose To sing the very song I sing, Imperfectly complete with every high and low note, Then that is what I call The perfect friendship.