Broken Friendships
November 20th, 1996 Claire
Melbourne, Australia
As I sit alone
With the warm sun on my back
I realise something’s missing
A part of me which lacks.
Could it be the trees,
Reaching for the sky?
Or could it be the children,
Walking home, who pass me by?
Perhaps, I miss the birds,
Chirping sweetly above my head?
All I feel is restlessness
A part of me is dead.
I know now what it is.
Now I realise what is wrong.
It’s the feeling, they call solitude,
All my friends are gone.
Of course I know,
That as we grow,
We have to make our way,
We all must plot a different course,
To go by everyday.
I always thought my friendships,
Would be round,
Just like the moon
But you see,
I am not ready,
For it all to end so soon.
I miss their happy laughter,
Floating on the wind.
I miss the many secrets,
That circulate within.
The only way to keep,November 20th, 1996 Claire
Melbourne, Australia
As I sit alone
With the warm sun on my back
I realise something’s missing
A part of me which lacks.
Could it be the trees,
Reaching for the sky?
Or could it be the children,
Walking home, who pass me by?
Perhaps, I miss the birds,
Chirping sweetly above my head?
All I feel is restlessness
A part of me is dead.
I know now what it is.
Now I realise what is wrong.
It’s the feeling, they call solitude,
All my friends are gone.
Of course I know,
That as we grow,
We have to make our way,
We all must plot a different course,
To go by everyday.
I always thought my friendships,
Would be round,
Just like the moon
But you see,
I am not ready,
For it all to end so soon.
I miss their happy laughter,
Floating on the wind.
I miss the many secrets,
That circulate within.
Our friendships woven tight,
Is to keep in contact always
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