Belle Johns

Whenever I pass you in the hallways
I realize that I will never be free
I sink back into the thoughts that I may
Rediscover hopes that are not so mean
Escaping from those beautiful brown eyes
Will always be another waste of time
For precious minds are all full of sweet lies
That accounts for a disappointing crime
Now I am able to grieve on my own
Thoughts and analyzation in the dark
Supportive words with a sharp undertone
Is how you were able to make your mark
But if I think of such a lovely friend
All of the losses line up to the end

A sonnet reflecting on the ever present misinterpretations of lost friendship.