I called myself your friend.
But, self-proclaimed titles rarely prove true.
Had I been your friend, I’m sure I would have heard you.

I would have heard the things you screamed at me;
Yelling from your silent voice inside.
But, I heard nothing, nothing, nothing through my pride.

I called myself your friend.
And honest, I did not mean to lie.
But, had I been your friend I would have seen things through your eyes.

I would have seen things from a heart
That, though like mine, was not my own.
But, I saw nothing, nothing and your cares remained unknown.

I called myself your friend,
Like a child proclaiming himself to be grown.
And like a child, I thought of no one’s cares but my own.

So call me what you will;
Your choice I will not argue.
And, if you choose to call me friend, maybe this time it will be true.

Chuck Allen
(This is a poem I wrote many years ago. It was previously posted at Poetry.com.)