Constantly I contemplate our friendship,

Whether our paths were truly meant to cross,

Yet I yearn to lash with a verbal whip;

That which you like makes me see you at loss.

You remain malignant upon my mind

As you to yourself may be late in life;

Although your words have been nothing but kind,

I feel between us could emerge great strife.

Yet I restrain myself not to bother

And care not how we came to fruition;

True friends gaze not upon one another,

But rather into the same direction.

I know you mean well but am still distraught;

Therefore I think we our ways should depart.