To a New Friend
To the query, “What is a friend?’’ his response was, ''A single soul dwelling in two bodies.''
--Aristotle (384 BC-322 BC) Greek philosopher.
I play it safe; I run and hide
to let her never come inside.
My feeling of regret is strong:
it hurts to think, What if I’m wrong?
To be someone’s marbled statue
(lauded from afar by one new)
veils me, yet protects her ideal
which is greater than what is real.
To stay spotless in her mind’s eye
an untruth, a single, white lie
was told--that I fell. But, forsooth,
to not trust once more was the truth!
That truth--the fear of being laid
bare once more (to a dewy maid)--
disquiets me: for I’m in dread
to let her in--to trust instead.
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