Absent Friends;
here's to them.
It's all a facade.
The immensely cheerful voice,
silently mocking you. The little touches
of playful annoyment, really hateful pretence.
All harbingers of the peripheral
illusions waiting to break
free.
Absent friends,
those half people, mirror images,
of the perfect people, but fleeting,
evanascent. Those beautiful images,
reflecting the perfect life, so easily broken.
Shards of a perfect life, that I never once knew.
Absent friends, shadows of smug,
protesting voices. Fleeting.
Is it the disappearance of warmth,
the shattering of cold glass,
till you have drifted away? Is it the
snapping of the thin line
you never knew existed in the first
place? What has come of them?
They are now ghosts of individuals,
demeaned to the same tier.
Nevertheless.
Absent friends, here's to them.
I wrote the poem 'False' about a similar friend I had, because of this, I can relate so well to your poem. Keep writing.
this poem really touched me and i love it, it's just so deep and moving
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
'Fair-weather' frustrations, some people seem to be. It is the givers that they feed on. I love the poem.