In traipsing around,
Few true friends have I found,
Till now I could not see,
How untrue they were to me.

That scenario is re-lived daily,
With my weighted like lead,
As friends chat gaily,
There is rage within my head.

Why do I always find,
Every friend seems to mind,
Getting as close to me,
As I to them equally.

Glances and shy hellos,
Bread sorrow in my chest,
Lovely girls and fine fellows,
For friends I am pressed.

Lightly observe me,
And you might surmise,
“With everyone you’re friendly,
Is this contempt in disguise?”

“No.” I would reply,
“For I dream every second I’m awake,
Until the day I die,
And I’m good for goodness’ sake.”

“Then why no mates for the soul?”
You might retort.
I: “It’s a team sport,
Alone, I cannot reach that goal.”