Friendless Center - edit3

[dukealien]

edit;

Friendless Friday


I yearn for pleasing minds which orbit earth
as goldfish circle in their crystal bowls
pretending reason, simulating worth,
provoking conversations without souls.

I weep for things which cannot love me back–
old figurines I own, toys dressed as life–
and sadly smile at knowing grins I lack
on painted faces like a cake-top wife.

Inconstant, things I own:  they shall not be
grave-goods to burn or bury in a tomb;
mute matter, they cannot accompany
my dissolution but outlive my doom.

You toys, you things I value more than friends
who might distort my dream with means and ends.

---

Having difficulty recapturing the state of mind when this was written (the first quatrain almost certainly drunk).  Probably just as well 

@busker - good critique, the first quatrain still doesn't make much sense.  Hoping some of your criticisms are addressed without dumping the good parts.

It does still rhyme, though.