Close Friends EM Whitman

 

I’m finally over my crush!

Yes, he used to make my heart rush,

Now it’s just friendship that runs through my veins,

He was always there for me, even when it rained,

When I told him I liked him, he looked shocked,

Later, I told him that it was over, because a new friendship was unlocked.

 

Our Parents and siblings are close, we call each other family,

Sometimes we goof around, act silly,

Other times, we get serious, I love our deep conversations,

I believe we fill each other with inspiration,

He’s seen me embarrass myself,

He has also seen me cry for help.

 

At my best or worst, he’s there,

He’s my close friend, he cares,

He encourages me, even when he feels down,

He always tries to make me smile when I frown,

He reminds me he’s there when I need a listening ear,

He tells me, “I’m always here.”

 

I try to remind him of the same,

Sometimes it feels like he thinks I’m lame,

Then I remember how long we’ve been friends,

I know this relationship won't end!

I’m so glad we crossed each other’s paths when we were young,

It allowed us to grow together through the great and the things that stung,

 

He’s one of three friends who helped me through the worst breakup of my friendships,

We’ve been through many hardships,

We support each other when we have tough mountains to climb,

Not everything we’ve faced can we define,

We’ve stuck together, no matter the weather,

I know we will be friends forever.

Being Used EM Whitman

 Got what I need to give a helping hand,

Then you came to me with a confident stand, 

You asked to borrow a wrench,

What you did with it put me in the trench,

The use of my tool broke me and left me feeling lonely,

You used me for selfish things, would you call that friendly?

I don’t mind helping; it’s the use of what I had that made me feel violated.

 

You say you need help for a good deed,

I ask ecstatic, “What do you need?!”

“Glue to hold something I love together.” She sounded broken and sad

I gave her the bottle, knowing she would do just that.

She glues her possession together, it looks almost new.

This time I didn’t feel so blue.

I don’t mind helping; it’s the use of what I had that made me feel joy.

 

Some people care about what they say,

They think to themselves, “Will I lead them astray?”

Others don’t even think about the people being deceived.

The ones who we thought were kind, their acting we believed.

You have a choice, you can lie and get high on momentary pleasure,

Or speak life into others, be kindhearted, and look toward a good future.

I don’t mind helping; it’s the use of what I have that truly matters.