I thought real friendships grew on trees,
So I started collecting them by three’s.
I pick three at a time and see if it’s good,
Then choose the best and keep for food.
Having a good number was quite rewarding,
And when it doubled the feeling was amazing.
Gathering a hundred was indeed a win,
But only a few are considered genuine.
When I picked you out you were unripe I thought,
Your green dominated but the yellow fought.
So I kept you in a basket with all the other six,
Hoping that one day you’ll make the finest picks.
And now you are among the very best,
So I brought you out and dumped the rest.
I know it’s hard to find real friendships on trees,
But I guess I don’t need the number to increase.
What I have right now is true and real,
Your friendship is enough and that’s a good deal.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
nice friendship rhyme