The Other Side. Poem by willow moon pearce

Friends we used to be
Coffee and long talks
In the early morning.
Supper and laughter in the evening.

Weekends, always filled with things to do,
Always interesting and filled with the feeling
Only good friends share.

I never did find out why they all evaporated
In a bleak few years.
Retreating one by one,
Invites fewer and then nothing
Was it my thoughts, or hair or slightly different humour and lifestyle?

Not understanding, I continued to invite them.
But no response, my feelings and the years we spent together
Hurt / Badly hurt.
A bleak curtain descends.

I fail to understand and retreat into myself and my books
My comfort, lasting, always there
I can always see them again
My sad part is I begin to dislike them, always trying to analyse
I pass them in the street, saying nothing and becoming paranoid -
Hurt beyond words
Not a call from them on one important day.
They are ghosts to me now
Like the long dead.