Friends

This post is very ironic after the one I just posted but it was from last June in my defense and may already be up. I did not check.

Be it a lack of availability
A purposeful spite for me
Or I’ve become a memory
I am not sure
But they just don’t call anymore
I have my mother and my wife
And my friends from work are nice
But what happened to the others
Who I grew up with
The people I made laugh everyday
Can’t I get an email to say hello
I am not sure
But they just don’t write anymore
Maybe it’s just life and change
And I need to accept the blame
I gave up long ago
When hundreds of attempts
Led to dead ends
I am not sure
I just don’t have (enough) friends anymore*
And where my heart stored friends
That part seemed to fall shatter
Now this paper is all that listens
And when my pen runs out of ink
There will be no one around to borrow one from
Except strangers who can’t even smile or move
To acknowledge I am present
I truly am not sure
Why I am not happy anymore
But I am sure
I am not happy

*For the few friends left, this is just a poem I suppose. You are good to me. I just can’t be a burden to the same people daily.