To the guy who was once my best friend…
Do you hate me?
What a rhetorical question I ask myself everytime I see your happy go lucky face.
What an idiotic notion that runs through my mind,
What a plain dumb thing I imagine asking your kind,
Everytime I want to, and trust me I do, I just don’t every time.
Because everytime I want to, I tell myself will you stop asking such rhetorical questions?!
After all the rivers he has wasted on you,
The greens he so pain stakingly earned through and through,
The tries, the lies, the failures.
What a stupid rhetorical question because You, yes, YOU are the last person he wants to see or even hear of…
I know it’s a rhetorical question…
But it hurts to know that your hatred for me burns like a thousand suns,
Even after all the laughs, the memories, the fun,
The secrets we’ve shared that weighed a ton,
The apologies I have made till you said it’s done,
The tries. The lies. The failures.
I was there, wasn’t I?
But to ask you such a rhetorical question is something I will never ever have the courage to do.
You have the damn right to hate me, true.
You have the damn right to tell me eff you!
For keeping you like just another item to collect.
And dropping you for another one on the rack.
For making promises I never kept,
For allowing myself to see you at your weakest, and let you wept,
Still let you on, so no.
I will never ask you… for you will surely answer:
“Such. A. Rhetorical. Question.”