I Didn'T Want To Be Your Friend, Anyway Poem by Heidi K. Haskell

(And Other Such Mature Reactions)

Some souls may select their own society and close the door,
But most of us wind up alone when someone shuts the door in our face.
More often than not, we don't even know what the rejection's for,
What crime we've committed that makes us fall from grace.

So when I go out of my way to try and be your friend,
And you, point blank, tell me to stop pestering you,
It's enough to drive a person 'round the bend
To start wishing you'd get gangrene and be all full of festering goo.

Yes, rejection makes four-year-olds of us all.
Rejection for stupid reasons, even worse.
While pride, as they say, goeth before a fall,
Pride injured by other people's tripwires makes me want to curse.

So, your slight leaves me in all readiness
To say you're not such a great person that you've got friends to burn...
See! Pettiness begets pettiness.
Only maturity stops me giving you the verbal beatdown for which you so obviously yearn.

All I'll do is exhort you to reflect:
In the interest of goodwill, or karma, or whoever's keeping score,
It's not good to hold grudges for ten years and not tell the grudge-ee why the disrespect,
Lest someday you find your sorry, snubbing self on the wrong side of that slamming door.