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Wednesday, September 7, 2011

Quiet Solipsism & A Case of Confusion

I thought we used to be
pretty good
friends,
friends with a mission,
real friends -
but
no more.

I am invisible to you now,
unless you are forced
 to be in my company.
I am someone
 you tolerate
as you hide behind a drink
or your
 good deeds at church.
But good deeds
 won’t get you
 into heaven.

Am I so vile
because
I have grown old,
or because
I am not so pretty?
Or Is it because
you now have lots of money
and a big house,
and I don’t,
and you are ashamed for me,
pity me,
think me crazy,
to ease you mind
and your guilt?

Is it because I have no children
and we now share different
life experiences?
You work to be seen
at every social event,
even though I know
 how you despise those crowds
and their dusty lives.
Have we grown to be so different
than the realities we once knew?

Is it because I have suffered much
and you have not?
Life has the appearance
of perfect bliss for you.
But somehow I doubt that it
 is all that it appears to be.

Are you afraid my pain
or my poverty will
some how
rub off on you?

Or is it because
I know all those quiet secrets,
the ones you cannot afford
for the world
or your now rich neighbors to know?

I am the same one
you have always known.
I know your true heart
and your soul.
It does not belong here
among a myriad of
things
and polished silver.
Why are you here in this barren land?

 I will move on now.
I will keep your secrets.
And I will try
not to think of you
again,
for where you have gone now
breaks my heart.

But I have no right to judge,
though  I will pray for your salvation.
For I am,
and always will be,
your friend.
                                                                                        Joyce Burns

© Joyce (Tidwell) Burns, ChynaMoon Creations 1997-2011

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