I am realizing that the times you spent with me,
Were more of a worry than they were any reprieve.
I guess hindsight is twenty-twenty,
I wish I had seen it sooner so that I could leave.
Now I’m questioning,
Did it mean anything?
What defines a friend?
What separates them from an acquaintance?
I don’t know anymore;
The ones I thought were my friends are strangers,
That I’ve never met before.
Perhaps, there were good times,
But they’re clouded in the grey.
Now I’m left with ambiguity,
To haunt me for my days.
Those times that you laughed,
At a joke I didn’t understand.
Dividing us further by our clear differences.
This lone wolf was meant to hunt on his own,
Dancing with solitude in the comfort of his home.
But the lonely monarch grows tired of his throne,
He’s frozen with fear, for he doesn’t know where to go.
So, what’s next?
How does the second chapter open?
Would it be simpler to just forget?
Or act bitter and broken?
I walk the trial-heavy road,
Of finding new friends.
I wish I were a bloodhound,
To sniff out genuine people,
Who could invest in me.
Authenticity is a rarity,
Amidst all of the fallacies,
Filled to the brim with irony,
And patronizing apathy.
It’s a painful search,
That leaves me questioning my worth,
But I won’t stop looking,
Statistics assure me,
That there’s at least one friend out there, somewhere.
I just have to find them wherever they are.
A friend is as rare as a perfect pair,
And they can be covered with fool’s gold.
How is anyone to know?
Finding honest friends is the hardest quest.
