Some of us are blessed
With a rainbow of friends,
Some with a winter’s blessing of
ferns.
Yet sometimes we wish for a
person so special,
Someone who will make every
moment be treasured,
Yet none of us seek that friend
we are born with,
A part of our heart and a part of
our thought.
He is none but ourselves, the
little voice in our head
That many a time we pretend we
never hear,
And never have we guessed in the
wildest of dreams,
That one day we shall befriend ourselves.
