I have a friend

I have a friend
Somewhere in cyberspace
Or England

I know him as Eltee
He has a real name
But I’m not interested

Eltee writes me poems
About echoes and gardens
And the Midnight Times

Of this I am very jealous
Writing is my passion
I can never be as good as he
In any way, form or fashion

I read his poems
I feel very proud
I sink into depression
A misty, dreary shroud

And now I wrote this piece
A pinnacle of nothingness
To spite myself and others
With my sickly skill

So take this one Eltee
I shove it in your face

A reminder of your greatness
And my lack of grace