We met in preschool so long ago
Now I am growing old
Yearning for the earlier days
When life was so simple
No worries to cloud my head
No demons screaming
Friends we were until that day
Stopped returning my calls
When next I saw her
She turned up her nose at me
A stuck up bitch she turned out to be
No more of that is required
True friends are a rarity
A treasure that few have
Especially for someone like me
Socially retarded and dumb
Unable to twiddle my thumbs
Channel surfing is my key
An escape to a far away place
Anywhere will do
Just get me away from here
Fly away on the wings
Of that bird passing by
By Barbara Desmond
