Friends Poem by Mary Angela Douglas
Friends
you think you are spoken to as if you mattered
then you find you're a backdrop, stage prop, sugar pop
a thing perhaps bribed with candy or
useful to know.
the wind blows.
the sun shines.
the flowers smile.
think about this, for awhile.
what do they ever ask you in return.
count them friends.
mary angela douglas 30 march 2016
Wednesday, March 30, 2016
Topic(s) of this poem: friends
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5/10/2024 10:16:37 PM # 1.0.0.1119
