My Moon

I rest my arms on the bricks of my balcony.

Staring upwards at my old friend.

My childhood acquaintance.

For my parents failed themselves.

My mate was called, "moon." 

But to me, he was an intent listener.

Silent and patient than the world.

Its surface resembled a plethora of my obscured emotions.

His mind was as chaotic as mine. 

He whispered his misery into my ears. 

As I did recite to him my day at school. 

Only on nights would he rise. 

He knew I am busy all day.

He enquires how weary have I grown?

But concealing emotions have had my lips zipped.

Just like my best buddy,

Was eclipsed by darkness.

I seeped in this void of self-pity.

In this dead pool where I found no escape. 

The algae fed on me,

And adorned my skin like rusted jewelry.

But as I aged.

The realization of my childish whimsicality struck hard.

The reality assassinated the child in me.

I lost my only peer ever since.