I won’t pretend the following is good. Without editing, without thought, without a second glance… it leaves much to be desired. Still, a raw moment of my heart and emotion, a moment of mourning for a friendship’s core revealed and found to be less than anticipated. Thanks as always for reading. Your comments are especially welcome.
I wonder who it is you think you are
or, perhaps more importantly,
just who it is you think I’m not
that you presume to behave the way you do.
And I wonder who told you
that you were exempt
from the rules of engagement,
character and integrity, virtue and truth.
I wonder when you lost sight of yourself
in the mirror of our culture
that tells you your money is your value
that suit and car define your worth.
I watched your transition in silence
from the him to the you
I heard the future change in your stories
as the city claimed another youth.
Where is the you who hiked Europe
penniless but for a credit card you mocked?
Where is the man who worked
only to pay a debt so he could leave again?
I respected your stories then
in a way I can’t respect you now.
The city has changed you, claimed you
evidence echoes in the lies of your omission.
I loved you then
in a way I tried to love you now.
Funny how you can’t love what doesn’t exist.
Where…who… are you?