Poems About Real Friends Novels & Stories

“You know what I mean. Just… promise me you’ll snag your chance if given the opportunity.” I can see it on her face she wants this for me. She really wants it. And the way that she cares, warms me on the inside. Isn’t this what a real friendship is all about? Not using me and treating me like a personal servant. It’s looking your friend in the eye and telling them the truth. It’s being there and giving a damn. It’s having your friend’s back. I don’t want to let her down. Hell, I don’t want to let myself down either. Deep inside, I’d love nothing more than to have that chance. But it’s a long shot. So…

She put the tray of food on a nearby table, then turned her full attention to me. “I understand your pain, my love, and I’m not happy about this either. Yeah, we had so many expectations, but tonight ended terribly. No matter how many tears you shed, nothing is going to change until we take action.” “At this point, you shouldn’t care what your friends think or if they would mock you. It’s in situations like this that will make you determine who your real friends are and the ones who are gold diggers in disguise.” “You should also know that sometimes things don’t go as planned, but we need to fight until we can fight no more.”

I haven't regretted it since then. Nevertheless, I forced a small smile, and admitted honestly, because lying to her felt like breaking something as fragile. “Yes, I do have a real friend,” I said and continued, “a real friend wouldn't leave you because of what you cannot give them and they know you can't. A real friend will help you in times of need, a real friend would be happy when you're happy, and sad when you're sad. A real friend is like your living diary. Who do you think deserves that title?”

Your faithfully, The Friend

My eyes slowly grew wide as I stare in the horizon. [Friends are foes. You need to stand all by yourself alone. Friends are not real. Friends are enemies! They are not real towards you. Backstabs you when you turn around. Friends are just your imaginary companion. No one is really in this world other than me and our men. Don't trust friends. You don't need anyone to be with.] Tears starts falling from my eyes because of the painful words that pierces my heart little by little. "How could you say... false things to my friends? Who are you to judge them?" My teeth gritted, jaw clenching.

We don't want to see them because we considered them as our number one enemy, or worst, our nightmare. But then, you know? There's a lot of people like them that we should love. Why? Because our day or even our life will not be meaningful without them. They were the ones who taught us to be tough. To be strong. That even they are such pain in the eye, they were still the ones who help us to relieve pain and helps us to fight. Cherish them. Even they are annoying, they're still the ones who make us happy every day. Yes, they will ruin our day. But if they are gone, our day will not be complete. Real friends are frank. They tell the truth without being rash. They tell the truth without asking

his eyes peered over his arms. "Because real friends like each other, that's all." I touched my finger to his nose "You know, once, a long time ago, I knew a little boy who also had a lot of toys, but few friends. He thought people would only like him for the pretty, expensive things he had. And maybe some people would actually want to be with him just because of that. But they weren't his real friends. Then, one day, his mother and his nanny taught him a very valuable lesson: if he wanted to make real friends, he should show them who he really was, not what he had." “And what happened to him?” Theodore moved a little closer to me, interested.

“Who cares? You’re going to have your own restaurant one day and they’ll all be eating your dust.” I smile over the table at my dear friend. “Thank you.” “For what?” “For always being here for me. It means a lot.” She gives me a beautiful, broad smile. “What are friends for if not to have fake sick days, bust cheating assholes and conniving relatives with?” I laugh and raise my coffee cup to him. “Cheers to that.” I knock on my friend’s door, and she opens it in a rush. “Hi.” She leans in and hugs me.

“I’m the same. I prefer living a low-key life. A life where nobody knows my business… Where nobody can interfere in my shit. I keep my circle tight as fuck. I only have a few friends… But you know what?” He shrugged his shoulders. “I have the right ones. I’d rather be surrounded by two real people than fifty fake ones.” I nodded in response. “I feel the same way,” I agreed with him. “People brag so much about the amount of friends they have. And it just makes you think, why? How many of those friends would stand by you when shit got rocky for you? How many of those friends would lend you a hundred pounds if you suddenly found yourself in debt, struggling with money? How many of those friends

"No offense but you don't hold much weight in that department." "My friend Cole Michael told me once that when you get into deep shit with someone and you team up to make it out, chances are you become best friends for life. You are officially on my list of best friends for life and I promise to always have your back. If they fire you, I'll make them regret the day I was born." "Can you make that a poem so that I can frame it?" She laughed. "Better, let's make a contract. I'll sign it." I assured her.