No one becomes my friend,
A bond so strong, yet so slim.
I reach out my hand, but they pretend,
To be deaf and dumb, or so dim.

My heart is pure, my intentions true,
But still they turn away, oh so few.
I offer love, a helping hand,
But all I get is a cold, hard stand.

I've been burned by false promises,
And stabbed in the back with lies.
I've given and given, until I'm drained,
But still they turn away, with no shame.

So I'll stand tall, with my head held high,
And let my heart remain open wide.
For though no one becomes my friend,
I'll find my own way, I'll never end.
© Subhadarshi Hotta