Could you be my friend? There are so many reasons why you never should:
I'm sometimes sullen, often shy, acutely sensitive,
My fear erupts as anger, I find it hard to give,
I talk about myself when I'm afraid and often spend a day without anything to say.
But I will make you laugh and I will love you quite a bit and Hold you when you're sad.
I cry a little almost every day
Because I'm more caring than the strangers ever know,
And if, at times, I show my tender side (the soft and warmer part I hide)
wonder, Could you be my friend?
A friend Who far beyond the feebleness of any vow or tie
Will touch the secret place where I am really I,
To know the pain of lips that plead and eyes that weep,
Who will not run away when you find me in the street
Alone and lying mangled by my quota of defeats
But will stop and stay to tell me of another day When I was beautiful.
Could you be my friend?
There are so many reasons why you
Often I'm too serious, seldom predictably the same,
Sometimes cold and distant, probably I'll always change.
I bluster and brag, seek attention like achild,
I brood and pout, my anger can be wild,
But I will make you laugh And love you quite a bit
And be near when you're afraid. I shake a little almost every day Because I'm more frightened than the strangers ever know,
And if, at times, I show my trembling side (the anxious, fearful part I hide)
I wonder, Could you be my
A friend Who, when I fear your closeness, feels me push away And stubbornly will stay to share what's left on such a day. Who, when no one knows my name or calls me on the phone, When there's no concern for me - what I have or haven't done -
And those I've helped and counted on have, oh so deftly, run.
Who, when there's nothing left for me, stripped of charm and subtlety, Will nonetheless remain.
Could you be my friend? For
no other reason that I know...Except I
need you so.