F this S
I'm mad depressed angry
Why?
F this S
What happened?
Where did all my real friends go?
False...falsetto
A farse...
falls on
me
Until I weep
Healing waters wash over me
Take away any so called friends
Who stab me
in the front
In the back
Inside vulnerable places
when I'm not looking
As they smile in my face
And act like they love me
Getting information
From me
For a secretive mind
Scheming
What friends are these?
Taking every man I never had or kept
Taking every possession I never owned
These are my scraps from the table
Their secrecy is a delicacy
To my fine tuned intuition
How many friends must I lose?
Before my heart permanently breaks
Or my spirit shields the darts and swords
How many must I encounter?
Before my soul closes the door?
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem