The Twenty Seventh Poem- Who’s My True Friend?
Who’s My True Friend? Why are they mean? What did I do? Why don’t I feel seen? I’m surprised, cause this is new. Are they jealous of me? That I’m the best in my own unique ways? Or because I found the magic key That they’d been digging since the pharaoh days? Once we were the best of friends, Until suddenly the tables turned upside down; Leaving me unable to comprehend, Thinking if it was me who let them down. I try to hold them on to me, Wishing it would become the way ’twas before; But dear, they’re running away from me, So I give up, realising it’s not a score. I let them go and I refind peace; The insecurity I had previously Miraculously turns into ease; And I turn inside me lovingly. I sit with myself, With my hands wrapped around me, And willingly reassure myself, That no one’s my best friend than me. Sometimes that’s how I learn- I collect my floor-fallen pieces, Pick myself up and around I turn, And arduously try to think of happiness and roses. Sometimes that’s how my healing ...