It isn’t his fault
The poor fool caught
Between friendship
And that other
Deeper
More passionate side,
A mentor who means
To serve as father
To us all
Trying to mediate
This clash between
Siblings,
(who make love
Behind his back
And then bicker)
Helpless to pick a side,
Throwing his hands up
Scared to admit
How much he loves
Them both,
Faced with the Solomon
Dilemma of choosing
Which one he
Loves more
And me,
The wounded child
Pressing him to
Decide, and
When he does,
Betraying him,
One more mean trick
Kids pick
When he (me) can’t
Get what we want
Or jealously can’t stand
When he gives her
the attention,
he(me) wishes
she could give me,
in the end
condemned to
decide
when there was
never a doubt
who he would,
who he loves best
and who I would have
picked, too,
had I been him.
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