My Friend, I think?

They say they're your buddy. they say I'm a friend.

But their actions say that they really pretend.

They say hello and hope you are doing well.

Not asking, just stating, well wishes they sell.

With no time to spend with you together.

But they surely ask for help in bad weather.

You still will help them, giving of love.

Learning the lessons taught from above.

Whenever you have times of sadness or sorrow.

They say compassionately, maybe tomorrow.

They really are not bad, wicked, or mean.

They have their life, maintaining the sheen.

They talk of themselves, describing their way.

Yet still do not ask, how was your day?

You love them still, seeing they're good.

Knowing it's the price of brotherhood.

You know this friendship is kind of bleak.

But now you practice turning the other cheek.

Help them again, and the mold is cast.

Remember, the last is first, and the first is last.

You see how they are, this you know.

To you it's a love quest, to them it's a show.

Try to help them and show them good ways.

Pray they see the path through their own haze.

Eventually, they will see it in the back of their mind.

But will they admit it to themselves, the golden find?

Can they break free of body and skin?

Follow the way of the truth within?

They may not be able, their ways to bend.

But therefore, I guess, they're still my friend.

Kasey Dann