I have friends
They are my dream friends
They talk, so I don't have to.
They have different opinions than me.
That's ok, they don't need to hear mine.
Their actions, are never what I would do.
That's ok, because I never feel included in what they are doing anyway.
Sometimes, I wonder if I'm even there with them.
I remember to call out 'I'm still here.'
They don't notice this time...
They begin to talk behind my back.
That's ok, I'll just pretend I don't hear.
They begin to avoid me at lunch
That's Ok I'll just pretend I don't see
They start, to ignore me altogether.
It's ok, I'll just pretend that I dont...feel anything...anymore.
I have friends
They are my dream friends.
..I...think..
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
sad and poignant and interesting to hear poetry about what some would term a slight psychosis- like imagining friends: it's something I do sometimes too