I had a friend,
When I was sixteen.
He was neither a pet,
nor a human being.
He had no eyes no ears,
no hands no legs.
but an empty stomach,
with a wide open mouth.
I always kept him close to me,
not near my chest,
but below my waist,
and carried it around like a kangaroo.
Thieves & beggars wanted to take him from me,
without knowing,
he had a face only a mother could love.
People close to me,
were always curious about that friend with me.
They would always wish for him to starve,
so that they could finish eating a full meal.
and I dint say a word believing, this was the price for him to be with me.
I took him to places,
for me to be.
Or I am not sure ,
if it was the other way around.
Life was a journey for him and me,
but for me to travel,
he had to be there for me.
As time went on,
I started to realize.
It was not my friend, That was starving,
It was me all along.
A flexible piece of fabric,
which can be folded in two,
was my only true friend,
who knew what it is to be me.