It’s 1:20 in the morning

And I’m up thinking about you.

I honestly don’t know what to do.

If I could mimic a color, it would be blue.

 

I never thought you’d change,

Yet that was inevitable.

Who knew you’d have conversations with the devil?

In the form of drugs and alcohol,

I remember when you used to stand tall.

Now you just lay back, you don’t care at all.

 

Why are your eyes so lifeless?

Do you remember how good life is?

I cannot believe this consumed you.

I feel like I don’t even know you.

 

Piece my piece our connection shattered,

I began to wonder if anything even mattered.

I felt like I sat in my room alone for hours,

Using all of my brainpower to get through to you,

I felt like our friendship was doomed.

 

Then warm hands wrapped around me,

Holding me so very close.

There when I needed them the most.

My sadness started to drift away,

Leaving me with so many words to say.

I began to think of a plan,

To give my friend a helping hand.

 

The words moved swiftly from my brain to my pen,

As poetry helped me connect to you again.

Poetry’s warm hands that wrapped around me,

And told me which direction I should go.

Poetry told me all I would need to know.

 

To release the pain it saw me under,

And help me through the endless rain and thunder,

I endured while seeing you struggle.

 

For the first time in a long time I saw you smile.

I had been waiting to see that for quite awhile.

I helped you get the help you needed.

And day by day you succeeded.

 

Without poetry being an outlet for me,

I would not have been able to see,

You become the amazing individual you were meant to be.