Tuesday, August 19, 2008

Friends, Right

This is a NavWorks Challenge

Friends, right

There’s this guy I know,
          or used to know,
time’s went and pulled us              apart
in different directions
          if you know what I mean.

He’s supposed to be a friend, right?
          Right.

Only he never comes around
and when we do meet
          accidental encounters
          of the third kind,
          ya know? You know.
haphazard visits avoided because
          because. . . because. . .
of these horrible, nasty-
minded people he brings                around
          and ‘round we go
          where it stops,
          nobody knows.

He’s supposed to be a friend, right?
          Right.

These strangers don’t like me
          but he calls them friends
and it’s impossible to get along
          with his friends
while good moods shatter to pieces
          but they’re his friends
and it’s always my fault
          always
when the arguments begin
          hate in an elevator
          going down                       down
          down
and it’s always my fault
          always
these strangers don’t like me
          but he calls them friends
and it’s impossible to get along
          with his friends
while good moods shatter to pieces
          but they’re his friends.

He’s supposed to be a friend, right?
          Right.



I try to be good                           I swear
I try to be polite
          sugar and spice
          and everything nice,
          ya know? You know.
As these horrible, nasty-minded people
literally start fights
          I finish
but it’s always                             always
my fault
          always mine,
          my fault
          always.

He’s supposed to be a friend, right?
          Right.

I don’t think he’s much of a friend
          he says he’s the very best
and I’m supposed to be                 mental
according to him,
          of course.

I think I need new friends.