There’s folks who won’t come close to me
because I have an ostomy.
That does not matter in the end
where that person is not a friend.
But when they were my friends before
this is when it hurts me more.
One would expect a friend to stay
from the respect we had one day.
Linking back to when things were fine
thinking that these were friends of mine
I have to question reasons why
friends from my past would pass me by.
Maybe it’s me made the wrong call
and they were not my friends at all.
Nonetheless it hurts inside
that they give me a birth so wide.
Although it gets to me a bit
I don’t want to dwell on it.
I’d like to concentrate upon
my new state and moving on.
Here my tale has not yet ended
for there are people I’ve befriended
and they can empathise with me
because they have an ostomy.
From now on I won’t pretend,
I need to redefine ‘a friend’
as someone who can really care
and when you need them they’ll be there.
Someone you can rely upon
not have to ask them why they’ve gone.
This sort you’ll find that in the end
ought to define what is a friend.
B. Withers 2013