Imaginary Friend

My only friend is my imaginary friend.
We live in a haunted house
above the field
where you eat your imaginary dinner.
It helps you build your imaginary street.

You build that street out of chemicals and plastic
over your imaginary guitar
that you cannot play.
You reminded me of Kurt Cobain.

Our hard work will pay off
when we meet you in that street.
When I knew you,
you wore a different alter ego every day.
Have you stayed the same?

With your pain tolerance we cannot compete
with common sence,
but with grief.
That’s not our battle.
We fight for the better days to come.
Don’t be fooled by my smile;
it’s just your imaginary drum.