Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Sep 2013
Little is known about Graham
I see him everyday, yet, I know nothing about him
Nor does anyone else

He sits in a circle, the circle includes himself and stuffed animals
He sits there, in the yard of his beautiful house

Although he seems content, with his home and... friends...
I can't help but feel an aura of sadness around him
Why though?
He has it made! His parents were rich, he's never worked a day of his life for anything

I have heard rumors, however, that he's a nice man
and quite congenial
But how could anyone know that?
No one knows him!
People judge Graham based on what they see
And they see contentness
They walk by his home a glance over to a seemingly happy man
Surrounded by his stuffed animals, err, friends

Then why do I feel this aura of sadness around him?

Surely he knows they're not real...
That if he were to leave them, they wouldn't call for him to come back...
He must know that
He must...

But, there they are. Gathered in front of his perfect house
Happily chatting away, as if nothing is wrong

I'm sure one day he'll wake up and realize it
Realize that they're not real, the stuffed animals
are not real
That they don't care for him
That they can't care for him
All he needs
is to just
snap out of it...
and wake up

Hey guys! That was a poem that took me a long time to write, I know it's probably pretty bad, I'm only 16. But that poem was about me, how I'm surrounded by friends that aren't real friends, but they're there. It's true, I've never worked a day of my life for anything. Never worked to have friends, people just naturally like me I guess. But deep down I know im not who they think i am, that im not truly happy. Anyway, please leave feedback if you think i could've worded something better, anything is appreciated, I'm very new!
Scott Veinland
Written by
Scott Veinland  US
Please log in to view and add comments on poems