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?