For a Friend, and for a Saviour

Oft, we expect saviours that resemble us.
Saviours that won’t put us off.
Rescuers we won’t look at twice.
We are waiting for lovers dressed in Victoria’s Secret,
Secret that everyone knows. Waiting for clowns to lift up our spirits, smiles plastered across their lips.

Waiting for clowns to lift up our spirits,
Smiles plastered across their lips.
We are looking for friends that are like us.
Bright-eyed,
Summer hats,
Ray Ban with an original case.
She’s not what we expected, though.
Mother Theresa had a blue shoal.
Princess Diana had a smile.
Kim Kardashian had an hour glass body.

She, on the other hand, came all heart and soul.
And she put us off.
She was beautiful
but we didn’t know it
and didn’t care.

She was troublesome
Yet we loved peace.
She asked for everything,
we were only ready for fake smiles,
Half answers from half hearts.
She stood like an old tree,
firm but not glimmering.
She wanted trust,
we thought it risk.
She wanted honesty, our minds crafted pseudo-truths.

She’s what we needed, she’s not what we wanted.
Saviours came on old rugged crosses,
quiet deep friends;
but because they were inconvenient,
we were never saved,
never truly loved,
waiting for a Tony Stark in Iron Suit,
a Megan Fox ready to drink from our hands.

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