Friends

I have a question, are friends truly for real? When I need them, they're not here. So what's the deal? Why is it that I always attract the flakes? Am I not worthy of friendship? Only worthy of being forsaken? At least, here and now, I've acquired something true. Some real friends who don't care, what I look like or do. But people I've known for what? Eight years or more? Have decided that I'm not important and walked out my door. Oh well, what's done is done. And when life is over, my battles have been won. So instead of dwelling in the valleys of despair, I'll hang in the shadows of my Jesus. Without a care. Because without a doubt, he's a friend for life. And so I know he's always mine.