Imagery friends that were surrounded in my childhood,
many of my friends had one or two I had five.
I asked them when we grew from seed to leaf
where are they now?
Are they only in your dreams,
did you bury then beneath the ground.

Some cried others not understanding what I meant,
but my imaginary friends they were still here
they had buried some of those that friends had wondered
where they had gone.
No longer in conciseness more like decaying thoughts.

I saw my friend she had an object in her hand,
giggling she looked down it wasn't within her
grasp but mine. "You are the one, and as I looked
and saw the affection of reality in a pulp of unrelinquished
resentment. You are ours not those of other moments.

They became what once was games now I saw them tease
upon my existence, my moments were a mirage of pain.
I walked down the street, and an old lady was waiting
tirelessly for a bus till he smeared his being on her
and pushed. The poor driver of that bus never stopping again.

They played me, dancing around my sanity like I was the
rose and they were song repeating within my mind.
These were my bad seed of my imagination. If you think
those of thought are real, in time substance becomes reality
only in the essence that you can see.

I used to find them funny, I used to even in later years still
talk to them. But now my seeds have grown and the petals
they grow are not of this world. Have you ever thought your falling?
well its those friends that need attention in your blind sight.
*"Wake up little one its time to play, which one is my friend today,