The Good Friend

This was written looooong ago in one of my melancholic moods. Don't ask me what I mean, please, those are forgotten. But I thought I might as post it and get over it, completely.



she remains the good friend
on and on, until the end,
till i find another one,
with new additional features, at least ten.
oh, how intimate then we were,
all the thoughts, feelings n memories shared
together we were the best of friends
n all lust, i thought, it transcends...
but she, oh my, had plans of her own,
she had weird ideas, deep in her bones
so at last, i had to make it known,
that our relationship hasn't by any means grown.
and that pissed off the silly girl,
she went home and into her bed did she curl
cried and sweared and cursed herself,
for being so stupid as to put her brain in the shelf.
how the hell, could she dare to dream,
of kings and kingdoms not in her realm?
how the hell, could she dare to see,
images that could never be?
and though she s sad, she resolves to smile,
and make no more attempts futile
what does she think, that people can't see through
that she s wearing a pretender's shoe?
still she remains a good friend of mine,
till i meet the next one along the vine.