After I end my cry
and my eyes again dry,
no longer blinded by pain
nor burdened with regret;
I will move on
to a new life:
a life without you
or any memory of you.
But I’ll keep this promise
which I made to myself,
that before I forget you
I will change,
make myself better
than you ever wanted me.

I remember your words,
some true, others false,
but all hateful, hurtful.
Saying the same thing,
I never was your friend,
even though you were mine.
I erred like any man
but thought little of it
since friends easily forgive.
But not you, you don’t,
even then you didn’t.
I’ll call you friend no more –
my love was washed away
by the very same tears
you made me shed.

I wish you’d been gentler,
like a true friend ought to be-
speaking to correct, not hurt,
aiming to change, not revenge.
I promise I will change,
all the bad things
you pointed out in me,
but once I am better,
once I am perfect for you;
I won’t seek your company
‘cos I am no masochist,
and I cherish not
being hurt by friends.


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