YOU

Must I be someone else
If I want to be friend
With you?

Shall I transform myself
To a thing you would prefer
An image of your own pompous
Rotten in your conceited feelings.

Just to be with you
In your little world of high and mighty.

I know
You just regard me
As one of yours
Inferior.

Not to be in title
To even walk
With you.

That's me
In those arrogant eyes
Of yours.

Fear not,
Dear friend.
For neither hate,
Or anger
Emerged from
Deep within me.

But pity,
For you are actually
Alone,
In your own world
Of pride.

And you
Shall die alone
In your realm
Of Despair.