Grown Apart

So, I promised that I'd write a poem on the spilting of friendships through personal experience. It was a tough poem to write, keeping the feeling but not blaming others. Anway, here it is

 

Grown Apart

You are the hub of the action,

The centrepiece of the conversation,

The one everyone wants to know,

The one everyone wants to talk to,

The one everyone wants to be around,

But suddenly it is gone.

No longer the hub of the action,

No longer the centrepiece of the conversation,

The one no one wants to know you,

The one no one wants to talk to,

The one no one wants to be around,

Suddenly you face a new reality.

Waltzing through the school gates,

Hugging every second soul,

Chatting about the weekend events,

Bouncing through the locker bay,

Reluctantly budged by the bell,

But suddenly it is changed.

Slouching through the school gates,

Hands shoved in blazer pockets,

Lips sealed and pulled taut,

Sliding through the locker bay,

Rushing before the bell,

Suddenly you face a new reality.

Weeks this continues,

Days last forever,

Emotionally drained,

Mentally frazzled,

The ice under your feet melting and cracked,

Your toes dip into the frozen water.

But enough is enough,

When you hit the bottom of the popularity chain,

Barely scraping through a school day,

Time comes to stand up,

To live through the pain,

To deny them the victory.

So you smile at the sight of them,

Smirk when they try to bring you down,

Force your way into new groups,

Laugh at new jokes,

When they whisper and point,

Walk away in victory.

At the end of this torture,

You realise the pain did not start,

When you felt it,

The pain was always there,

In the way that you restrained yourself from them,

You were never you with them.

You felt as though they knew you,

As if you could trust them,

But in the end you find that false,

They never knew you and never loved you,

Only ever used you for personal gain,

But for you it was for personal growth.

You find yourself now with many friends,

None as steady as before,

But all more genuine,

As if there was plastic suspended over your friendships,

And the breaking of one broke the plastic off the rest,

You find yourself as free as… as a butterfly.