Owls and Orchids

“There is nothing I would not do for those who are really my friends. I have no notion of loving people by halves, it is not my nature.”   ― Jane Austen, Northanger Abbey

When you hold out your hand in friendship

And find yourself ignored

You blame yourself for some kind of slip

But you have no idea what and feel unmoored.

When your life is turned upside down

And you’ve been left alone on the ground

Then you reach out for those friends

Only to find closed doors at the end.

Oft repeated this rejection brings despair

You begin to feel there’s no-one who cares

Each time you reach out your hand

You feel strapped by a huge leather band.

Heartbreak, oft repeated closes the heart

To protect from more pain at the start

Each attempt to befriend seems rejected

There’s no point to repeat being dejected.

Real friends are hard to find

The hand of friendship goes often undetected

Surrounded by friends you are not seen

Your hand of friendship not valued it seems.

So loneliness follows in your wake

Your hands empty in heartache

Neither hugs or calls nor letters will fall

Into your life despite your hearts call.

Where are the Real Friends of mine

Why have I been left feeling like I’m dying

Is my friendship somehow lacking

That I see you go backing

Away from me faster than night

As my heart breaks in two like the light.

No more shall I roam on the highway

Of the road some call Real Friends byways

Leaving heartache and pain in the night

As I wander alone in the light.

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If I should call, would you be a Real Friend?

 Bright Blessings for your days and nights.  Susan