Whenever I cry,
No matter where you are, you're near.
Happy or Sad,
You've been here.
My should to cry on,
My saving grace.
The one person in a crowd of hundreds,
The one person who see's my face.
But what's happening?
We're drifting apart.
We used to be so close,
But all I have now are memories in my heart.
I hate the thought of losing you,
But a real friend wouldn't make me chose;
Between friends with you or a love that could be true.
I wish you could see,
All this arguing and hurt,
Is killing me.
I say im fine, but im really not.
Sometimes I think;
My feelings you forgot.
-Andrea Nickle
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem