He enters the building. . .
I am working, next to me sits my friend.
We are in deep discussion of the world.
Or as deep as one can get at work.
He approaches the front desk.
Greeting my dear friend.
He doesn't even seem to notice me at first.
Then my friend begins.
Hey Friend, meet my other friend.
I look up an see, what appears to be a man.
He seems to be maybe from here;
but looks can be deceiving.
Talking to my friend, they begin to talk of music.
He talks of country music.
Real actual country.
My friend laughs, he's a metal head.
And me I am a reformed metal head; most would say now I am a free spirit.
My friend and his friend continue talking.
Minor engagement is what I keep myself to.
He is pretty nice, so it seems.
The conversation ends.
A next time is promised between my friend and his friend.
I didn't know this would be where it began, the thing I'd regret but never change. The place where new is great until it turns to pain.
YOU ARE READING
Him. . .
PoetryThe story of him. . . The one I let in. A collections of feelings of pain,anger, and sadness. A series of thoughts, caution these are not for the faint of heart. I share with you the experience because I have to get it out. I can't keep holding it i...
