What are friends for?
I always wished that question was asked in a group of four,
A group of friends without love,
A group of friends without joy,
Friends who only wanted to extract ore

Friends who sucked me dry
Friends who don’t care when I cry
Friends who wouldn’t care when I die
And I ask again, what are friends for?

I see friends who take pain relievers for each other’s heart ache
Mine, seems to be the other way around,
So I ask again what the hell friends are for?

Friends who don’t care if I exist,
Friends who don’t care when I am sick
Friends who don’t care if I am hurt
Friends who don’t care if life puts me on the edge
Then I ask again what are friends for ?

I strain myself to make them happy,
I work almost to a fault,
Just not to make the spark in their eyes fluffy
But what do I get ?
Can somebody tell me what friends are for?

My heart is as if it’s going to burst,
My tear glands are drained
But my friends are robust
While getting their hips trained
I would pay anything if someone tells me what friends are for.

Am I to blame?
Or am I cursed?
Why can’t I get a friend?
Or is it my destiny?

I do not care about gender,
I only care about my agenda
I laid my life for what I thought was right
And here I am, suffering in drought
What are friends for?

I wish I could get the key to men’s minds
So I know who to trust and what kind to believe in
What do I do?
What have I done?
What are friends for?

It’s not so easy to forget them
Even after leaving me in the lion’s den
I don’t think this hurt would erase
Neither do I think I would embrace another with ease.

The Nostalgic Pen©