What is a friend?
A friend is someone you love,
A friend is someone you hate,
A friend is someone who says, how you doing mate?
Some friends are young,
Some friends are old,
Some friends never listen, no matter how many times they’re told.
My friends are strong,
My friends are kind,
My friends are irreplaceable in my mind.
So what are you?
You were there at the start,
You’ll be there at the end,
Because you are, my best friend.
So many try to be good.
Are we not good by nature? Is that not what it means to be accepted by friends, family and loved ones? Because who would love us if we were not good…
The struggle I see in the eyes of the masses I have written about before. Conformity is the downfall on many. The lonely surround themselves with people so that they have a place to belong, a place to call home. The linger in the past searching for scraps, no, remnants of memories long devoured by the sands of time.
I am only a simple person with a simple mind. I have hopes, dreams and desires just like any other, but, I am different. How can I claim such a thing? Because I am not afraid to hurt peoples feelings for the right reasons. I don’t tiptoe on the edge. It’s all or nothing. Too many times I hear falsities. Friends lie to each other to protect the feelings that lay in a fragile balance.
My writing is inconsistent and fragmented. It screams out, yet only a few can understand the true meanings behind my words. People will take from it what they want, be that lessons, sadness or a look in to my psyche.
Often I write about what I have learnt, only to have that lesson and its teachings broken by a new lesson. This is truly fascinating.
I am by no means the arbiter of fate, nor am I an angle among men with sight beyond sight. I am experienced though.
Your future has already been written in my past.