A poem about friendship

I was feeling numb when they came.

No emotions or a flame.

They started to chat,

and I listen to them.

There was no anger

in what they said.

No envy, no revenge.

I was confused in a sense.

Why didn’t they complain?

Life isn’t fair,

and everybody feels some pain.

Later I came to learn

that all those bloody blades,

once I had to accept,

were not offered by my new friends.

I was confused in a sense

because they were there

in case I wanted to share.

Emulating them,

I did not whine or protest.

I simply had a story to tell.

Lucky was I

for that, I found people who cared.

And so again,

I was confused in a sense.

But this time, it didn’t matter

because, with fresh confusion, I was blessed.

A big turn in life, a good change.