An Old Friend

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Poetry  |  House: Booksie Classic

A poem that was originally spoken word.

Submitted: September 12, 2018

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Submitted: September 12, 2018



An old friend. 

A friend that comes when you don’t want him to, 

A friend that no one talks about, 

A friend that you know a little too well, 

A friend that pulls your heart out and finds your insecurities in the chambers. 


Your memory of stealing a pencil in the right atrium, 

The death of your pet in the left. 

What’s in the ventricles? 

We’ll never know. 

Never until our old friend rips them out again. 


He whispers five thoughts a second: 

Why are you such a failure?  

Why don’t you do anything?  

Do you understand what you’ve done? Who you’ve hurt? Why?  

And you can only answer “Yes.” 


This little friend, 

In his sick little way, 

Can put a noose around your neck, 

A gun to your head, 

Whatever works that day. 


And despite what you do, 

No matter how hard you try, 

He follows you around. 

That old friend, 

Will never die. 


He just follows you around, 

Quiet all the while, 

The only words he speaks, 

Fill you with dread, 

The words bouncing around inside your head. 


It drives you absolutely mad, 


The worst thoughts, 

You wish you never had, 

It’s clear to see this friend is bad. 


Yet he somehow reaches into your mind, 

And holds it in a bind, 

Leaving you blind, 

Leaving all your sense behind, 

All your little thoughts entwined. 


You don’t like it one bit, 

So you come up with this story, this twisted skit, 

To keep everyone out of this shit. 

All relationships you have to omit, 

Because he just won’t quit. 


I am sick of the excuses 

Why do you take the abuse? 

Add on to your list of bruises? 

What reason can you deduce? 

What reason can you produce? 


There is none. 

And what you fail to realize, 

Is the most obvious thing, 

That’s been staring you in the face, 

Friendships end. 


The longest ones can come to a close. 

Five minutes or fifty years, 

It doesn’t matter. 

They can all end. 

And it only takes a few minutes. 


A few minutes, 

That’s all it takes. 

A few simple words, 

That’s all it takes, 

And it’s over. 


All the thoughts you’ve had, 

All the dreams thrown away, 

Because of this thing you call a friend, 

Isn’t that the opposite of what a friend is supposed to be? 

The feelings that they are supposed to invoke? 


So I ask of you: 

How is he different from any other? 

Our old friend that fills you with guilt? 

Let me tell you: 

He isn’t. 


It’s all wrong. 

This isn’t how things were supposed to be. 

Where did it all go bad? 

Five, ten years ago? 

Time just feels like one big blur. 


The happy thoughts 

The sad thoughts 



They all just melted together 


An old friend; 

Where did he come from? 

No one really knows. 

We just know one thing: 

It’s a hell of a lot better without him. 

© Copyright 2019 G. P. Kidd. All rights reserved.

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