In the entire journey of being your friend,
I have never felt this hurt.
It feels as if you held a butcher knife,
and plunged it through my heart,
leaving it there, unattended to,
bleeding, darkening, like my life.
During our friendship, I felt taken for granted
once, twice, probably a hundred times;
I let it go, because you told me, you swore
That you loved me and despised yourself
For not being a good friend, so to help
I told you you were a great friend.
This time, I feel abandoned
A little betrayed and a lot lonely;
My last days on our common land,
And all that I am packing is surely
Not what I should have in my bag.