Fair Weather Friends Poem by Tony Adah

Fair Weather Friends



I am a suppurative sore
Putrid with a smell
Like a rotten egg
And I am lost
In a throng of flies.

By a stroke of ill-luck
For this horde and by
A taint of good luck for me
The sore heals and a scar comes
My visitors fly away
Leaving me abandoned.

Thursday, September 11, 2014
Topic(s) of this poem: friendship
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