Who will be my friend**, because no one really understands
this poem is just a device, from which my broken heart stems
with these words I now articulate, does my soul seek to take cover
looking for a real friend to have, willing to share the pain of another

Perhaps you too, having been made numb dealing with your concerns
subconsciously focused on healing your own pain, before it burns
then how can I earnestly ask of you, thinking I would be able to find
someone with the ability to help, maybe I myself am just blind

One who is a prisoner, is not free, nor himself in a position
he's trapped in that continuum, caused by his own condition
so I cry out in the only way I know how, this now my mission
hoping to be shown some light, these feelings need definition

Maybe I am delusional, not wishing to accept the fact
that there does not exist a friend, I could ever attract
then what prosperity awaits me, what are my hopes really worth
perhaps the truth I will find, when I am resting deep in the earth

How I must be a paradox, bold and yet full of contrition
thinking long and hard, I nevertheless came to this decision
yes I said what I have to say, but I know this pain is not my own
many of you reading this, whether you'll admit it, you too are alone

An answer exists, but only the strong-willed can discern
the weakness of the human ego, how easy for it to spurn
come off your high horse, for many it is too late
they lack the courage, that independent mind to concentrate

When all is said and done, loneliness of spirit is not exclusively mine
so I submit this proof, to you my dear reader, and let this be a sign
next time you feel on top of the world, where things couldn't be better
count the days that go by, before you too will be writing this same letter