Absent Friends

When my good friends
(or friends I thought were good)
have kept themselves so purposely
away from me
for any length of time,
as they now do,
I know the dark snarl of
abandonment and grief.

And then I find
I have to ask myself in brief
what I’ve done wrong
to have become within their eyes
some foul pariahed entity.

I wish I had a “why”
for this regard
that I quite understood.
For if I knew
what it was I need to rectify
I would.

Do I smell? Do I look like hell?
Or is that they’ve grown so tired
of my saying “hey! look here at these things
that I indite,
and do not want,
despite my claims
to write as if I had God’s grace
behind my pen,
to read, because they can’t abide,
my telly and no show declamatory,
language bruised
attempts at poetry,
and how all my defense
of what I write is tempered
narcissistically ?

“Since narcissists deep down feel themselves to be faultless, it is inevitable that when they are in conflict with the world they will invariably perceive the conflict as the world’s fault.” – M. Scott Peck
Written by Baldwin
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