Choices
They’re things we are given that allow us to control
The lives that we own and the souls we console.
I like to think I’m a pretty caring person,
But almost too caring to the point where It’s worsened.
As I sit in my bed and the time reads one,
All of my “friends” are out having fun.
What is a friend anyways?
Someone who is dependable?
Who never sets astray?
Maybe someone you love and care for.
But if that’s the case why is my love so poor?
Is it not pure enough?
Or is it simply not good enough?
Maybe it’s just me.
But can someone spell it out please?
Because I honestly just can’t see,
And I hate being used, so just set me free.
If you truly don’t care,
Then why use me, it’s just not fair.
To me friendship can never compare
To all worthless seams that are at a tear.
I’m not a plan B,
And neither are you so can’t we agree?
To me what you give is poison through dead seas,
But I can’t help I’m addicted to who’s absentee.
I hate being taken for granted,
But this fake love you feed me leaves me enchanted.
Is loyalty too much to ask for these days?
I mean dang that comes free and it still can’t be paid
I want to leave but I just don’t know how,
Just tell me what you want and I’ll give it to you now.
This desperation for acceptance is turning into hate.
Maybe we aren’t soul mates and that’s just our fate.
But if that’s the case you better hurry before it’s too late.
A friend is a friend.
You can never have enough so let’s not pretend.
All I want is to be there till the end.