Secret Friends -- A Poem

In my last post, I mentioned a poem about my childhood toys.  I looked through my old poetry and found it.

Secret Friends--Fantasy

My dearest friends,

As is plainly seen,

Are not of flesh and bone--

But of thought--And childhood fantasy.

Behind closed doors,

Far from view

Where no mortal eye can see--

Lives a world--Of simply fantasy.

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It isn't much, but I think it gives you all the gist of what I was talking about.  I wrote this in my teenage years and it was significantly different than any other poem I had written at that time.  Most of the poetry I wrote was angst filled, angry, and full of hatred (and maybe a little blasphemy...I did mention I was angry...).