You call me your friend
You once said you thought I hated you,
What I truly think is as follows:
We claim to be friends, yet
All we speak of is related to philosophy,
You’re what I’ve been looking for in a person,
That is to talk to and be friends with,
(nothing more so do not worry.)
But we not friends, we are nothing.
Look at us, we sit next to each other for one period of eight
We talk for about fifteen minutes and what?
“See you later” and what then?
We know nothing truly about each other, we never see each other
We never speak to one another,
But at least you are open-minded and speak.
Only wish you would tell me if you felt like I do
Withered and old inside.
Tell me then is there anything left? I am too tired
I want things to end at time, with
An order, all things just to cease
But it would counter my point.
Just tell me what this is all about.
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