Most won’t be there through thick and thin, but pretend to be as close as kin.
Like vines that cling to mighty trees, they slowly twist and bind with ease.
Sinuously serpentine, weaving through and in between,
caressing branches while choking leaves, corrupting shapes and bending beams,
leaving a twisted mockery of the beauty there before.
Sincere smiles hide an inside track, while whetting knives meant for your back;
handshake, hug, and then attack.
You don’t suspect a thing.
Just as seagulls scour shallow seas, they’ll pick the flesh and preen the reefs,
turning over shells and seeds to feast upon foul rotting weeds.
They expose to all your hidden doubts, your dreams, your fears and true accounts.
Waiting for their time to pounce, you haven’t any clue.
Some will betray you out of spite and others simply for delight.
These that vanish at first sign of fight, foul weather bursts, mere dark of night —
every secret, every gripe, each plum of gossip hanging ripe.
They’ll talk about you when you leave and mock you when you feel at ease.
Lord knows who still needs enemies
with loving, fawning friends like these?
Though the richest have but one or two, there are those, the rarest few;
those that brave the stormy seas, the sleepless nights, the desperate screams,
the sobbing, falling, flailing scenes and lift you from the floor.
They share with you their happy news and force a smile from your sullen moods.
They delight within your elated joy and take pride in the skills that you employ.
They offer wisdom yet listen too
A second shadow glued to you,
a secret sibling of a different hue that others don’t enjoy.
When the darkest clouds surround you, when the walls are closing in,
when the sky falls down around you, when you feel like giving in,
when the looks have faded from your face, when your hair and wallet thin,
when the timber of your voice is gone some will never call again.
When your titles are all stripped away and you’ve lost your dividends,
when your home is much more modest and there’s nothing left to spend.
When you’ve fallen so very far and long, once you’ve reached the bitter end.
If one remains, it’s then you’ll know,
what it means to have a friend.
by D. Ryan Lafferty
Literary Crumbs: Poems & Short Stories to Savor by D. Ryan Lafferty 