Everybody posesses something precious,
That is very close to their heart,
Even I hold a big ticket thing,
That priceless possession that I have,
Is none other than my best friend,
I know it sounds sleazy,
But believe me,
It's true,
He has been more than just a friend to me,
A brother,
A father,
A teacher,
He fits all,
And it's not just the warmth in his hugs,
That makes me heaven sent,
But the mere fact,
That I can fearlessly imprision,
All my thoughts in front of him,
He makes me feel good about myself,
No matter how monstrous,
I look or feel,
He knows how to dazzle me up,
In just seconds,
Wheather be it by his creepy laughs,
Or lamest of his jokes,
All of it makes sense to me,
He is one person,
I'll never be able to thank enough,
For his horizonless anxiousness,
To make me a sober head,
I'd halt myself here by saying,
No truer words have ever been penned,
Than the crux of your love that is just being best friends,
Thank you for being my best friend;
The demon under my bed.
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Poetry
PoetryIf you're the one who's tired of trying, If you're the one who's had it enough, You might like my work
