You find your real friends
When you are going through hell
It’s easy to tell
They are just around the bend
And only love do they send
Fake friends can’t be found
In pain they are not around
And they make no sound
They leave you to stand alone
And with no love to be shone
Bills are piling high, pills will not do, and you want to cry;
Your roof is leaking, your soul is seeking, you want to die,
But you really try to stay calm, without any healing balm;
You feel lonely and frightened in the deadly dark of night,
And you reach ‘n try to teach yourself just to quiet down,
And you preach to yourself but anxiety still rises in heart
And every part of your being and you’re not seeing relief;
It is in times like this . . . sometimes you just need a friend;
Sometimes you need a bosom, helping hand, caring heart,
Yes, it is truly true . . . sometimes you just need that friend;
You need the touch, the reassurance that it will be alright,
And that there’s no need for fright or to live in the blight;
You need the light shining from another soul to your own,
Seeds of love sown . . . sometimes you just need the friend
To tell you this is not the end, there’s a bend in the road,
And that you’re going to make it as they take your hand,
And without judgment join with you to make two in one;
Yeah . . . sometimes you just need a friend . . . some friend;
Sometimes you just need a friend . . .
There is a friend who sticks closer than a brother or sister. (Proverbs 18.24b)
It’s not the same anymore with a broken heart;
I walk and talk with you, and it tears me apart!
Yes there are smiles all the while but so vacant
And I just want to cry because I do know
That day we really did say our ‘goodbye;’
It was an ending without any new beginning
But you made your choice with definite voice
And now you’re left alone to just pretend,
Yet fail to apprehend what you have done;
But perhaps I’m wrong and you’re really strong
And at peace with a new lease on living this life;
Ahh! But then you seem to have cut yourself off
From anyone who ever genuinely cared for you!
O what’ve you lost for the sake of that albatross!
But who am I to say?
. . .
It’s not the same anymore with a broken heart;
I walk and talk with you, and it tears me apart!
There is nothing quite like the expression of friendship
To drive away obsession and depression in relaxation
Of heart to heart camaraderie, the pottery of two souls;
Just walking, talking, smiling ‘n laughing, stalking joy!
Oh what heavenly gift to sift the mind ‘n bind the devil;
Ah! Truly friends are one spirit abiding in two bodies,
Bold against the cold throws of an icy, cruel world . . .
No, there’s nothing quite like the love of true friendship!
Never particularly the cat lover
This kitty-cat hovered around
And was bound to win my heart
And so she became part
Of our beloved family. . .
So it has been for over 12 years
And now the tears come to eyes
As I cry when she cries out
Not knowing where she is;
You understand, she forgets now
And gets frightened when alone,
And she has to be shone her dish
With the wish that she will eat
Rather than simply seat herself;
Kitty doesn’t see as well either
And is easily scared
By rapid movement;
Nor does she move as fast,
And is past quickly jumping;
My dear kitty-cat has grown old,
And I don’t have to be told . . . no;
No, it won’t be very long, I know,
And when that day comes
I will openly show sorrow
For my sister-companion,
And I will have lost part of my heart
How can we raise a paean to such a saurian
Without playing the part of the tragedienne?
He is an ugly reptile of grotesque formation,
Curse of creation and symbol of damnation!
But one might rightly suppose that everyone
Deserves an encomium no matter the odium;
‘Give the devil his due’ may be true
But you knew precious little praise
Would be raised up for his person
When you took the bait and sealed your fate
At an altar with many witnesses to tragedy!
Now an agony comes in living your phantasy
Without any approbation for the ruination
Of your life because those who do love you
Esteem you too much to offer such a crutch!
No, there is no commendation
For your double-headed snake,
Only resignation for your sake;
But most of us keep out of sight
To sidestep his poisonous bite,
And you might have done the same but . . .
You’re left alone to hear his seething tone!
So, how can we raise a paean to this saurian
Without playing the part of the tragedienne?
Our only urge is to intone your funeral dirge!
Capitulation to manipulation is only bondage
In which you pay homage to fear as hostage;
Love is not exploitation, vexation and soul starvation;
Love is exaltation, celebration and heart liberation!
Submission to nefarious calculation and scheming
Is dreaming of happiness in an inescapable dungeon
Of lies that fly straight from the pits of dark Abaddon!
Being manipulated is really the same as being hated:
You are being twisted and torn, turned and burned
With no real compassion or affection ever returned,
While the puppet-master grins, writing your life
With his very own pen . . . again and again and again!
Know truth; stand on truth; cling to truth; speak truth
And refuse to bow again to the clever, levering cow!
Now I really am in trouble,
Tempest tossed and lost,
And I can nearly feel the frost
Of an uncertain future on the streets:
Stranger-vagabond to everyone I meet,
Feet frozen, hands numb, mouth dumb,
Deserted by family and friends,
Ravenous wolves round every bend . . .
And how does it feel to be destitute?
Shall I turn this aging body into a prostitute?
But, O God, have I ever turned away
From someone in need?
Failed to feed the hungry?
Have I been too comfortable in my hole?
Have I been a miser without a soul?
Ah! But thousands ask the same questions,
Do they not? And wonder how it is they got
Where they got and why? And they try
To figure some way out and off vacant lots,
And they scheme and plot because that’s
What they have left, so bereft are they
Of family and friends who care,
And whoever said life is fair?
Then why should I be the privileged one?
Why should I not walk the streets
To the beats of every other homeless heart?
Oh, but I am frightened, my chest tightened;
Lord, can I make it? Can I take it?
Will you walk with me the miles?
Will I still feel the warmth of your smiles?
. . .
One pleading hand reaching for the sky
One cracked voice finally saying ‘goodbye’
. . .
And, after all, will I have a home on high?
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