Friend or Foe

by | Feb 19, 2016 | Poetry | 0 comments

Yesterday I was your friend, but today in the morning you just told me that I was your fiercest and most hated enemies. After the long laugh I gave for thinking you were joking, I realized you were serious about this joke. All I could do was turn around and leave and my words on the door as I was leaving should, or, at least, I thought, bring you back to reason. I just said I was not; I didn’t have anything more meaningful to say for you caught me off guard and out of my love for philosophy, I couldn’t find words that were more meaningful than “I am not your enemy.”

Then I left the room and nearly left your life without having a reason good enough for my having left, yet I knew that I would get there and know what this was all about.

Yesterday I saw your world and I enjoyed living in every single corner, studied on every single desk, traveled to all your boundaries, and always, to your home, came back. Yesterday I saw the world through your eyes and I let myself fly wide and high as I thought the edges of the sky were outlined in your beautiful blue eyes, and by taking the journey there and back, I would visit all heavens and down to earth, in the end, landed. Yesterday I asked you where I wanted to go and what I wanted to do and you chose things for me and I thought I was choosing what my mind suggested not what yours used to see. Yesterday I was yours and this was the only thing that could never change; I am still yours.

But I no longer live within your boundaries, nor do I love sitting at your corners, nor do the gifts of wisdom you used to give make sense anymore, nor do the choices you make are considered mine anymore. I am free, not from you, I am free for myself. I appreciate you taught me how to fly, but if it were to one destination, why didn’t you save me the trouble and just carried me there. Your false freedom in a single track, a single mind, and a single pair of eyes are killing me. I have set myself free. I make my own choices today. My wings were broken and you tended to my wounded wings just to clip them to domesticate me; why didn’t you just let me die?

I am your foe you say, but I am not; you are not no matter how hard you try. I appreciate all the things you have given me but give me a chance to travel to different places and help other broken-winged friends. But you insist that the only way to be a friend is to be you; I know that anything else I do will make me your foe. Well, all right then; so be it. After all, it is better as foes that you fly and let us all fly than to be friends and die and make us all, with you, die.


Submit a Comment

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.

Want More Like This Post?

A Wounded Bear – Poem

They call me a bearSo powerful, so strong—A wounded bear I amI wish I could just hibernateAnd wake in another worldWake to another landI once called my home. A wounded bear I am,None can take me head-onBut like everything I wearCell by cellAll the mightThe show...