The Outcast

Sophia Jeroncic
Arts Editor

Too many times I’ve heard the words:
“I don’t have a friend.”
“When will this end?”
“Did my text ever send?”

Too many times I’ve heard the words:
“I’m being ignored.”
“I have nothing, I’m bored.”
“I don’t care anymore.”

Too many times I’ve heard the words:
“Lonely, I feel.”
I wish I could heal,
To help seal the deal.

So I become a new friend,
Someone who can tend,
To them when they need
A much happier end.

I become someone they trust,
Since their last turned to rust;
The light in their life
Gone from anger and strife.

And whom they do call
When they shatter and fall,
But whom do they call
When they’ve gotten it all?

Stronger they grow,
And brighter they seem,
At last, choose to leave
In great interests, they deem.

And so happy and healed,
Onward they trav,
With new people they love,
But whom do I have?

Originally Published on Vol.50 Issue 02 on Wednesday, September 23rd, 2020

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