My Friend Poem by Nassy Fesharaki

My friend

He is not just a guide
He is my candle, nights';
He is torch in the cave
He is light of the sun.

He is my company
And brothers' copy.

He, I see is expert
And jack of all trades
Among them, in research.

But being a jobless
Living on the reserve
Which is like prison;
Feels lost and broken;
Treasure in desert,
Of no use, no respect.

Sat in car, so I would
Take him back to place,
With roads of gravel:
Hardly, phone, internet!

"Let's go there, " he asked and
To some shop pointed…

Went in, came and told me:
"Am short of five dollars."

On the way I noticed
He had bought narcotics
To be food, medicine.

Soon, he too, will go, die
To be and to become
A nothing, nothingness
As his foes deep in heart
Want him; and try hard
To trash, get him lost
As in mud, settles dust.