Traitor

Friend? Foe?

So which are you?

I thought you were my friend.

But I can't tell them apart now.

Traitor.

This is a cinquain that I wrote a while ago. For those of you that don't know, a cinquain is a poem consisting of five lines. The first line has two syllables, the second has four, the third has six, the fourth has eight, and the fifth has two.

I wrote this poem because one of my friends, who I really trusted, turned out to be... a not so good friend. She was telling horrible lies about me to her family, and her parents would tell other parents. I have no idea what the lies were, but I'm not so sure if she's really my friend now.