Sadness, my friend.

When the sadness comes, he pretends to be cordial.
He follows me down the aisle of the grocery store,
Filling my basket with the things he likes.
He walks me to my car, then climbs in beside me,
Changing the radio station to find the gloomiest song for our ride home.

When sadness comes, he pretends to be kind.
“Here,” he says gently, pulling out a chair for me.
“Sit down,” he says as he weighs on my shoulders.
Then he fills my head with his memories.

When sadness comes, he pretends to be sympathetic.
He says, “Go rest, my dear. A nap will do you some good,”
But whispers forgotten thoughts in my ear so I won’t forget him.

“Go!” I scream. “Leave me be!” and he does,
Hanging his head as he walks out the door.
But I know he’ll be back, he can’t stay away.
He’s found a place where he’s comfortable,
He's found a friend.