All I Need Is a Friend | Teen Ink

All I Need Is a Friend MAG

January 28, 2009
By Ryan Moran BRONZE, Mt. Prospect, Illinois
Ryan Moran BRONZE, Mt. Prospect, Illinois
1 article 0 photos 0 comments

Books fill up my room.
Not baseball cards,
or pictures of girls,
or basketballs.
Maybe a blown up picture of …
… Pam Anderson might help.

Black-framed glasses
and a white,
pale,
lanky
body.
I should start working out.

At least I can read.
I read four books a day last summer.
The librarian,
80-year-old Mrs. Woodsworth,
she knows my middle name.
If only I had a real friend.
I am sick of seeing her old,
bony,
pale body.
Although it resembles mine.

The kids at school laugh.
Is it the way I dress?
Lacoste,
Ralph Lauren,
La Tigre.
I’ve tried every designer out there.
Staying in the house really saves me money.
My stupid rich parents give me $50 a week for lunch.
$50 times 36 weeks …
what is that?
$1,000,
$2,000,
$10,000?
I should probably know.
Straight A’s 12 years in a row
and counting.

With all of this,
or none of this –
it depends how you look at it –
all I need is a friend.



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This article has 1547 comments.


lovemaria said...
on Sep. 18 2017 at 1:45 pm
lovemaria, Toledo, Ohio
0 articles 0 photos 1 comment
omg i love it is soo cute

on May. 25 2017 at 4:47 pm
Just.Another.Girl SILVER, West Plains, Missouri
5 articles 2 photos 10 comments

Favorite Quote:
Why fit in when you were born to stand out? -Dr.Seuss

Great poem! I can relate to the body image and reading many MANY books a day! I think that if we ever meet we could be very good friends! That is of course if we could put down our books for long enough! :) Keep up the great writing!

on Apr. 26 2017 at 7:39 am
Labyrinthescaper PLATINUM, Harare, Other
23 articles 0 photos 1 comment

Favorite Quote:
Preach to broken hearts and you will never lack an audience

Wow,I love this so much and it's relateable. Beautiful writing :)

on Nov. 23 2016 at 3:53 pm
socialkaysualty PLATINUM, Dover, Delaware
25 articles 0 photos 37 comments

Favorite Quote:
Let us go then, you and I,
When the evening is spread out against the sky
Like a patient etherized upon a table;
Let us go, through certain half-deserted streets,
The muttering retreats
Of restless nights in one-night cheap hotels
And sawdust restaurants with oyster-shells:
Streets that follow like a tedious argument
Of insidious intent
To lead you to an overwhelming question ...
Oh, do not ask, “What is it?”
Let us go and make our visit.

In the room the women come and go
Talking of Michelangelo.

The yellow fog that rubs its back upon the window-panes,
The yellow smoke that rubs its muzzle on the window-panes,
Licked its tongue into the corners of the evening,
Lingered upon the pools that stand in drains,
Let fall upon its back the soot that falls from chimneys,
Slipped by the terrace, made a sudden leap,
And seeing that it was a soft October night,
Curled once about the house, and fell asleep.

And indeed there will be time
For the yellow smoke that slides along the street,
Rubbing its back upon the window-panes;
There will be time, there will be time
To prepare a face to meet the faces that you meet;
There will be time to murder and create,
And time for all the works and days of hands
That lift and drop a question on your plate;
Time for you and time for me,
And time yet for a hundred indecisions,
And for a hundred visions and revisions,
Before the taking of a toast and tea.

In the room the women come and go
Talking of Michelangelo.

And indeed there will be time
To wonder, “Do I dare?” and, “Do I dare?”
Time to turn back and descend the stair,
With a bald spot in the middle of my hair —
(They will say: “How his hair is growing thin!”)
My morning coat, my collar mounting firmly to the chin,
My necktie rich and modest, but asserted by a simple pin —
(They will say: “But how his arms and legs are thin!”)
Do I dare
Disturb the universe?
In a minute there is time
For decisions and revisions which a minute will reverse.

For I have known them all already, known them all:
Have known the evenings, mornings, afternoons,
I have measured out my life with coffee spoons;
I know the voices dying with a dying fall
Beneath the music from a farther room.



So how should I presume?

And I have known the eyes already, known them all—
The eyes that fix you in a formulated phrase,
And when I am formulated, sprawling on a pin,
When I am pinned and wriggling on the wall,
Then how should I begin
To spit out all the butt-ends of my days and ways?



And how should I presume?

And I have known the arms already, known them all—
Arms that are braceleted and white and bare
(But in the lamplight, downed with light brown hair!)
Is it perfume from a dress
That makes me so digress?
Arms that lie along a table, or wrap about a shawl.



And should I then presume?



And how should I begin?

Shall I say, I have gone at dusk through narrow streets
And watched the smoke that rises from the pipes
Of lonely men in shirt-sleeves, leaning out of windows? ...

I should have been a pair of ragged claws
Scuttling across the floors of silent seas.

And the afternoon, the evening, sleeps so peacefully!
Smoothed by long fingers,
Asleep ... tired ... or it malingers,
Stretched on the floor, here beside you and me.
Should I, after tea and cakes and ices,
Have the strength to force the moment to its crisis?
But though I have wept and fasted, wept and prayed,
Though I have seen my head (grown slightly bald) brought in upon a platter,
I am no prophet — and here’s no great matter;
I have seen the moment of my greatness flicker,
And I have seen the eternal Footman hold my coat, and snicker,
And in short, I was afraid.

And would it have been worth it, after all,
After the cups, the marmalade, the tea,
Among the porcelain, among some talk of you and me,
Would it have been worth while,
To have bitten off the matter with a smile,
To have squeezed the universe into a ball
To roll it towards some overwhelming question,
To say: “I am Lazarus, come from the dead,
Come back to tell you all, I shall tell you all”—
If one, settling a pillow by her head



Should say: “That is not what I meant at all;



That is not it, at all.”

And would it have been worth it, after all,
Would it have been worth while,
After the sunsets and the dooryards and the sprinkled streets,
After the novels, after the teacups, after the skirts that trail along the floor—
And this, and so much more?—
It is impossible to say just what I mean!
But as if a magic lantern threw the nerves in patterns on a screen:
Would it have been worth while
If one, settling a pillow or throwing off a shawl,
And turning toward the window, should say:



“That is not it at all,



That is not what I meant, at all.”

No! I am not Prince Hamlet, nor was meant to be;
Am an attendant lord, one that will do
To swell a progress, start a scene or two,
Advise the prince; no doubt, an easy tool,
Deferential, glad to be of use,
Politic, cautious, and meticulous;
Full of high sentence, but a bit obtuse;
At times, indeed, almost ridiculous—
Almost, at times, the Fool.

I grow old ... I grow old ...
I shall wear the bottoms of my trousers rolled.

Shall I part my hair behind? Do I dare to eat a peach?
I shall wear white flannel trousers, and walk upon the beach.
I have heard the mermaids singing, each to each.

I do not think that they will sing to me.

I have seen them riding seaward on the waves
Combing the white hair of the waves blown back
When the wind blows the water white and black.
We have lingered in the chambers of the sea
By sea-girls wreathed with seaweed red and brown
Till human voices wake us, and we drown.

this isn't a competition sweetie.

on Sep. 15 2016 at 6:16 pm
KittyKat1201 SILVER, Hoschton, Georgia
5 articles 0 photos 15 comments

Favorite Quote:
"Live life like you own it"

Wow hay qua vay!!!! Em thiet la thich thu viet nay cua Anh Ryan do nha! ♥♥♥

on Aug. 11 2016 at 12:34 pm
pineappler03 SILVER, Waterford, Connecticut
6 articles 1 photo 61 comments
This is very relatable. I like that I can understand the feelings presented in the poem. Good job!

on Jun. 9 2016 at 8:30 pm
literallyliterary BRONZE, Lilburn, Georgia
1 article 0 photos 2 comments

Favorite Quote:
"The roof is not my son... but I will raise it."

Wow, this is great! This is actually really helpful, I can really relate to this and its nice too feel like someone else knows what you're dealing with. Thanks for this.

on May. 9 2016 at 7:58 pm
radicalchickster DIAMOND, Jericho, New York
52 articles 0 photos 14 comments

Favorite Quote:
"Never, ever, ever give up."

it could use more work, but it's relatable. you wanted honest criticism. i hope you don't get offended by that. :(

Netprince16 said...
on May. 2 2016 at 9:19 am
i love it it inspired me

on Apr. 22 2016 at 8:56 pm
janesnow BRONZE, Sausalito, California
2 articles 0 photos 4 comments
oh yeah? i read five books a day last summer! hot wheels, beat that!

Tkenns BRONZE said...
on Apr. 21 2016 at 11:03 pm
Tkenns BRONZE, Des Moines, Iowa
2 articles 0 photos 25 comments
Hey, I know this can get annoying but if anyone had time to glance at my work that'd be great. I just have three short poems, but I might do more if I get enough likes. Thanks for the help! I you comment some criticism or what you like or something then I'll do the same for you!

on Apr. 16 2016 at 10:34 am
itsrainingcats GOLD, East Hampton, Connecticut
16 articles 0 photos 25 comments

Favorite Quote:
"Those who mind don't matter, and those who matter don't mind." -Dr. Suess

Huh, this is interesting and really fun to read! Relatable.

on Apr. 12 2016 at 5:02 pm
ambivalent SILVER, West Bend, Wisconsin
7 articles 0 photos 180 comments

Favorite Quote:
everything in life is writable about if you have the outgoing guts to do it, and the imagination to improvise. the worst enemy to creativity is self-doubt. [sylvia plath]

so glad i stumbled across this poem... love it.

on Mar. 20 2016 at 3:05 am
Ilse_Spiro GOLD, Palmer, Alaska
16 articles 3 photos 9 comments

Favorite Quote:
"Do you know the difference between an error and a mistake? Anyone can make an error, but that error doesn't become a mistake until they refuse to correct it."
-Grand Admiral Thrawn
Heir to the Empire, by Timothy Zhan.

I know how you feel, I went through the same thing for several years. You are an amazing poet!

on Mar. 16 2016 at 10:15 am
quillhoof BRONZE, Averill Park, New York
2 articles 0 photos 1 comment
You can now tag other users by using "@".i love it

on Mar. 7 2016 at 11:09 am
LittleRedDeliriousPrince SILVER, Parma Heights, Ohio
7 articles 0 photos 100 comments
Amazing...

on Feb. 27 2016 at 6:24 pm
Kara_case BRONZE, Reno, Nevada
3 articles 0 photos 2 comments
I love this one so much. I'll be your friend haha

on Feb. 11 2016 at 7:16 pm
Poetry101 BRONZE, Faith, South Dakota
3 articles 0 photos 30 comments

Favorite Quote:
You don't need anybody to tell you who you are or what you are. You are what you are !













~John Lennon

You have so much talent keep making more poems as good as this one.

Zoenikky said...
on Feb. 11 2016 at 1:49 pm
Zoenikky, Masvingo, Other
0 articles 0 photos 1 comment
really great piece

WRITERQ BRONZE said...
on Jan. 2 2016 at 9:55 pm
WRITERQ BRONZE, Altamont, New York
1 article 0 photos 11 comments

Favorite Quote:
Every dreams a possibility

Incredible work; Although it made me cry and sadly I can totally relate.