I call you but you never pick up,
only wanting to know me when
everyone else has had enough.
You stand away, like I'm a stranger
when other friends walk passed, do
you not respect me that much.
You vent your anger with others
on my arm with a punch, bruised am
I, but you don't seem to think you have
done wrong, a friend I am meant to be,
respect, you have little if much.
I would call you friend, but enemies would
not disrespect me this much, I am meant
to your friend. But after time I can se why
those who call you friend don't answer
your calls, the worst friend to
many and me included I would not
wish you on others, a worst friend
you are much.
about a friend in my youth