Fair Weather Friend: Almost Surreal

Only friend when convenient, never decent enough to please anyone else

Trapped in self-servitude, drinking the poison of crude self-centeredness

Awash in your own fears, tears and a built-up paranoia from many years

With no ears to hear the cries of another, to be bothered with fellow man

But only to make demands grown from the rotten soil of base expectation

In a self-created damnation you do not even realize, so blind your heart,

And who can cure your blighted soul, when you see only your own part,

And how to start living again after being dead to life around you so long,

Or to stir your spirit to feel some pick of pain for another desperate man

When long gone has been any sense of empathy twixt you and humanity?

Yes, you are the quintessential fair-weather friend … which is no friend

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