I made you laugh, heard you cry and felt you sing.
He was inside and and was the first to do these things.
Now, I'm with you and he is gone.
Why do I feel like I don't belong?

I give you things like time and space.
His dirty tricks, your memory, you can't erase.
You call him a friend. That's quite unfair.
You say: "There's no trust." I've seen him pet your hair.

It seems these days I can't read poetry.
These hollow words reverberate in me.
This jealous composition is curing me.
Why can't I write so that I can see.