Do you know what it is to be a friend,
Friend,
Or are you so self-absorbed
That nothing matters,
Beyond your handsome skin?

I remember you,
In the days before
You were represented
By the beauty of your language,
And your tan,
And car,
And your estate which sits on a hill.
You were kinder then,
But now I can barely
Tolerate your presence,
So impressed are you
With the power of your charisma,
Drawing all to you,
If for no other purpose
Than to reassure yourself
That you can.

Do you remember when we talked,
As kids,
Free upon the planet?
We had no money on the beach,
Or in the mountains,
Or resting high atop the straw
In your father’s barn.
We owed no excuses,
Except, perhaps,
To the girls we did not call,
When we had said that we would,
But we were boys,
Doing what boys will.

Now that we are men,
I had a need for help
From a friend,
A friend that I never realized
Would be so hard to find.
There was always peace
In knowing that you were there,
But I had never needed you,
And I will never need you again.

So sad for you,
It was a problem
That money could not solve,
So sad for me,
That I always believed
That you were there,
Another failed illusion,
One of a hundred
That life springs upon you,
Just when you can bear them least.

I’ll leave you now,
And promise that I’ll not need you again,
I’ll never interrupt your session
Before the cruelest of life’s mirrors,
Or draw you away
From others,
Who know that you are not their friend.
You are forever free
To absorb the warmth of the sun,
And to explore the bottom of the sea,
To impress the minions so taken with you,
So astonished in every degree.
Do them a favor, though,
If you have the time,
And make sure that they understand,
Dear sir,
That you are your own best friend.