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Rated: E · Poetry · Personal · #1739166
A poem about the realization of true friends even when the past has made you bitter.
It was unheard of,
Truly scarce indeed.
I would look above,
To Him I would plead.


What could I have done,
To be so despised,
Turning to no one,
Almost felt chastised.


The constant mocking,
The unprovoked hate.
It was quite shocking,
To live such a fate.


Over all those years,
Bottled expression,
Holding back the tears,
Too much repression.


Cynical had me,
Rarely conversing,
Doubting honesty,
In my mind cursing.


Unheard of to I,
This thing they call friend,
People rather die,
Than with me contend.


Alas that was then,
But it is not now,
For I "feel" again,
And this is just how:


I find uniqueness,
In you select few,
A lack of bleakness,
I wish to pursue.


You show me concern,
When I am weary.
Able to discern,
When I seem dreary.


You think of me when,
Random things take place.
Even now and then,
Cause a smiling face.


I can see no hate,
nor selfish  desire,
Nothing on the slate,
To call you a liar.


When you are present,
The day becomes swell,
I know your intent,
Is not to bring hell.


So I must repent,
For having such doubt,
Of any event,
God is trying to sprout.


No more I am numb,
To those around me,
I sing a new hum,
One that sets me free!
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