A friend of mine once said these words to me:

‘All friends are just a waste of space.’

(I wondered why he was my friend!)

‘They’re unreliable, you see.

They let you down and disappoint

And put your nose right out of joint.

They claim to love, but in the end,

You can’t believe what’s etched upon their face.’

 

‘Their comradeship is no more than a front.

They all end up betraying you,

Who, in your worship, cannot know

The motives of their clever stunt,

Their sly entrapment, to secure

Gifts and favours by their lure.’

Then, basking in his afterglow,

He winked: ‘By the way, none of this is true.’