Thursday, June 08, 2006


I wanted you to need me.
Oh, to be rare and treasured,
Absolutely indispensable,

Needed by one who is lost.

I thought I wanted the best for you.
I said I would rejoice when your life was grand.

And now your life is great –
Without me.
I am not indispensable.

Really, actually,
I guess I wanted you to stay sad.

How cruel and distorted.
Why would I want misery for a friend?
To be needed.

I thought I mean(t) something to you.

Possession is an ugly thing that festers in my flesh.
How do I gouge it out?

Am I the one who is lost?

1 comment:

James M Wilson said...

This is a great poem. I think the most tragic display of the fall of man is that we are capable of hurting the people we love the most. Maybe we are all lost.

P.S. Thanks for the comments on my writing. I really appreciate it.