In the aftermath of our friendship

Every minute walking past,
Warns me of a harsh truth.
A reluctant tear escapes my eyes,
As I stand in front of the telephone booth.

Heavy rain drops kisses my skin,
And the chilly wind has her fingers into my hair.
I feel myself caressing the fat telephone,
But to call you, I no longer dare.

I turn around,
Walking back home.
A thunder struck!
Warning of a violent storm.

More tears follow,
As a wolf howls in the distance.
My heart breaks into pieces,
Knowing our friendship has become past tense.