Friends And Nothing More

An old poem.

Early Monday morning,
I watch you come through the door,
and it’s so hard to talk
when you’re a friend and nothing more.

I smile casually as you sit down.
Try to forget my thoughts of a moment before.
I don’t tell you I’ve missed you and wanted you –
I’m your friend and nothing more.

When you look at me it hurts
and I know I have to pretend.
Don’t let you see what it does to me
when you treat me just as a friend.

I want to ask if you remember
what happened the week before,
but that is against the rules.
We’re friends and nothing more.

So I’ll be here as usual next Monday,
waiting for you to walk through the door
and I won’t let you see the way that I feel.
We’ll be friends and nothing more.

 

© Morney Wilson