Outside Where I Found My Friends Wyatt Ward Poem I strolled the outdoors seeking inspiration for a grand poem, yet I left empty-handed. Later I arrived home, tired, and unsatisfied with my work, when it dawned on me: The most important subjects outside that day were right in front of me, and I failed to notice;
My friends. More significant than all that was outside, even myself, was my friends. The ones that I loved, yielded my trust to, who gave me their trust in return and turned their backs, knowing full well that I wouldn’t stab them; that I would watch them instead. They offer their trust to me as well, wrapped in a box as a gift, to be received as such, and to be worn proudly as a badge of honor. A shrine not to be defiled, but protected with all that I have. That’s why I write about my friends, and not the leaves, the trees, or the water. These do not care if I live or die, suffer or thrive, and like our presence in high school, they will soon cease to exist; but our friendship will not. This poem goes to my friends, whom I discovered outside.
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