I hang out with friends. I have to wonder,
"Do they want to be here?".
I don't hang out with friends and I go under.
"Am I selfish if I shed a tear?"
One day they act like a very best friend.
The next day comes. Could it be the end?
Be patient, be patient. They care about you.
I tell myself time and again.
Every effort I put in to keep it alive,
but the same can't be said of my friend.
No words are spoken.
Spirits are broken.
Memories are awoken.
This side of the scale is too heavy to hold,
but will they care if I fold?
YOU ARE READING
Poetry About Life
PoetryI've been inspired by a close friend who also writes poetry about her life experiences. Granted, my poetry won't be as good as hers, but here goes.
