Published at 28/01/2025 00:00
Created at 26/01/2025
279 words - 1.4 min of reading time
Poetry
I live with a friend who doesn't live with me,
All the time I am wondering: where could they be?
Every month some money fills my account,
Every day I don't see them, and I don't know how.
I used to talk with my friend all the time,
Watch television, read, sing, hang around.
Their laughter was here when I was depressed.
Now I don't see them, and I feel so stressed!
I've looked into their room every night,
Somehow there was no furniture in sight.
However I know they sleep inside the house:
Every morning I'd wake with a door closing sound.
Their shoes no longer are by the door,
Their coat, their keys can be found no more.
Yet just yesterday I was sure they were there.
Hey, my friend, are you anywhere?
I've left written messages over by the sink,
Wrote them on paper, then their phone I would ring.
Yet nothing was delivered, I am afraid.
I wonder how much more I can take...
My friend used to help me feel less alone.
Nowadays I keep wondering 'How will I go on?'
They told me they'd always be here with me.
Were they a liar, how can that be?
I keep seeing them in the house all the time.
The places they were, the sounds, the smiles.
Yet I know they are no longer here.
I wonder, my friend, where could you be?
I've left one last message on their machine:
"Please call me back when you get this, I mean...
The rent is paid, the house stands just fine,
But without you here nothing seems right."
Poem dedicated to my great friend, Tati.
