He walks me home everyday
Although I walk like a snail.
He carries my things especially
If I look miserably weary.
He allots time just only for me
Although he's crazy freaking busy.
He checks me up regularly,
I'm sure he cares genuinely.
He shares his secrets to me
And trusts me wholeheartedly.
And he never gets mad at me
Even if I tease him so badly.
He's there when I desperately need company
And his shoulder's forever heartily ready.
His ears are always ready to listen
Though my stories are boring and beaten.
He never fails to commend my every deed
Whether or not it is indeed a good deed.
He finds my call-center accent so amusing
Though the rest of the world find it so assuming.
A shoulder to cry on.
A wide wall to lean on.
A sandbag to punch on.
A big joke to laugh on.
That's my friend, through it all.
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