He who was once a friend, is now an enemy
I wish I did not know his identity
I had taken the scissors and severed our ties
He roams the world spreading lies
He laughs his heart out as I sit there and cry
It is as if something in me has died
I only have one hand to hold and say the problems I tell
Everyone else I do not speak my internal hell
I try so hard to bring back my heart
But I often wonder if it was there to start
To the sir who has wounded me so
Where in this land will you go?
The month we fought was a drag
Such thoughts have forced me to gag
You may be dragging me through the mud
But I refuse to go with a quiet thud
So if he finds this poem one day
Then I hope you remember this fray
The seeds you sowed are full of toxins
Then remember my sweet concoction
Sticks and stones may break my bones
But I refuse to show my groans and moans
Our friendship here has long withered
As we are disconnected, do not come hither
I will be long gone from your reach