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Friendship's Unworthy Critic
Oh, how quaint, your narrow view,
Assuming my friendships must be askew.
With guys I laugh, I talk, I thrive,
But to you, it seems, that can't survive.
"You're pitiable," you deigned to say,
As if my joy's in some disarray.
Thank goodness, you proclaim with glee,
That romance's not our destiny.
But hold your horses, judgmental one,
My happiness isn't yours to shun.
My friends, my confidants, my crew,
They've lifted me when skies were blue.
So spare me your sanctimonious spiel,
While you judge from behind your veiled conceal.
Look in the mirror, take a glance,
Perhaps your own life needs a second chance.
© Lily Grace
Assuming my friendships must be askew.
With guys I laugh, I talk, I thrive,
But to you, it seems, that can't survive.
"You're pitiable," you deigned to say,
As if my joy's in some disarray.
Thank goodness, you proclaim with glee,
That romance's not our destiny.
But hold your horses, judgmental one,
My happiness isn't yours to shun.
My friends, my confidants, my crew,
They've lifted me when skies were blue.
So spare me your sanctimonious spiel,
While you judge from behind your veiled conceal.
Look in the mirror, take a glance,
Perhaps your own life needs a second chance.
© Lily Grace
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