A Real Friend   Solitary confinement, At least most of the day, Books are my only companions, In this cell, in a prison of my own choosing.   Read, understand, forget, read again. I've got to get out of here! I need my quiet, now, yet, I need some noise, too.   Who can hear my cry? My fellow prisoners are deaf. Their anguish blinds them of me. They cry as well, and sometimes we cry together.   Who is there? Does anyone hear me? "Yes, my child, I am here ... I give you strength; rely on me ... Be strong in me through your weakness." Lord, is that you? Of course it is, Who else is always there?   The dawn breaks in the middle of the day, And I am no longer alone: In solitary confinement, With a real friend.   by David Gregory, MS I