Friends

I sit at home and wonder why,

My friends don’t pick up their phones and say hi.

Days go by and I don’t even hear a peep,

Do they think that I am still asleep?

I have been through so much over these past years;

But no one bothers to ask about any of my fears.

Before it happened there were some I considered close,

Now only a few chip away at what has froze.

They have been unaffected by the arduous path of life,

While I have experienced many obstacles that have deepened my strife.

Sometimes I wonder if they even care,

That my beating heart continues to tear.

Going to games and bars and having fun,

How come I’ve been invited to none?

Why do I sit anxiously awaiting their calls?

My hope rises but undeniably falls.

My pain and sorrow grow exponentially,

But I guess I have held in reserve those feelings confidentially?

It is difficult to ask for help, but shouldn’t friends inquire?

Or is it only up to me to quench this fire?

Jarone Ashkenazi