Someone once told me, that there is always someone willing to be your friend.

Who am I?

I’m not lover, or a friend.

A daughter no one would recommend.

With each passing moment I search and pretend

That maybe there’s an answer

One I don’t comprehend.

 

This putrid shell of a body

Lacks all sense of novelty

Not a soul wants to listen

Making my voice slowly flatten

Is it possible, that maybe, they’ve forgotten?

 

Old friends have reduced me to mockery

My name, they’ve diminished

And all these years later

They taunt me cheerfully

Or worse, they won’t even acknowledge me.

Author's Note

It's shitty, I know. Every poem I write is pathetically dramatic and somewhat annoying. But it's always nice to get how you feel out. especially when you don't have someone to talk to. So, if you find it pathetic as I do, just move on. This one was for me, and nothing more.

Reviews

[The Rock And Roll Cowbo..]

Well expressing yourself in poetry is a way of releasing your feelings plus it can help others who feel the same... I think at times we can all feel like this, wandering what worth we bring to others... really a deeply sad and emotionally impactful piece. Nice going.