Where were you when I most needed your grace,
When acrid tribulations held me bound;
The devil gripped me tight in his embrace,
And everywhere, pure evil did surround—
You turned away in my most desperate hour,
Or so it seemed—you did not try to call;
A simple note—so well within your power—
Your silent absence stifling like a pall.
I held you dear—a true and loyal friend,
Stalwart, bold, unshaken through and through;
Where trust and kindness sure would never end—
A love we would not ever need renew.
But I was wrong. You did not truly care:
A “friend” indeed—when weather waxes fair.

© Loubert S Suddaby. All Rights Reserved.