William Sigh Loves His Pseudo-Friends

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Poetry  |  House: Booksie Classic
I feel as though all my friends don't actually enjoy my company, I guess this is about that.

Submitted: April 25, 2013

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Submitted: April 25, 2013

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My life of loving pseudo-friends has come to an end with the ballad of William Sigh,

ringing out from the balcony of the fifth floor,

the buildings rising higher and higher,

the moon shining and whisking our thoughts away.

And this is the day, my lovely pseudo-friends

that we all part ways and become transient of the thoughts we laid out on the pavement.

Of each fickle thought we had during our summers together,

each remedy for love sickness and hangovers, each day spent in the sun,

we become closer and farther away.

William Sigh has come to an end with his hands tied to the finger tip of another feigned friend,

dancing away the limits of the day,

smiling in a wakeless form and showing no signs of slowing his demise.

Quickly now, we have become friendless and lonesome,

away from the lengths of humour that scattered our days to memories,

I wish to become more than a memory.

But I doubt that can ever be, and I doubt I ever will be more than a dream,

the listless nights spent awake in her mind, trying to cling to lost tombs of personal treasures,

can we replace what we were? I doubt you’ll ever see my face when next summer ends.


© Copyright 2018 William Sigh. All rights reserved.

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