• Some say friends are like jewels,
    Some friends you find buried in the sand,
    Others, you find sitting on top of a rock.

    I know a man in a far away place.
    He collects jewels and displays them for all to see.
    This man takes pride in the quantity of the jewels that he has,
    Not in the quality, in which he should be concerned.
    For, does not the saying go, "We are judged by who we hang around."

    That man and I are no longer friends.
    For I, unlike him, am I rather picky person of sorts.
    I used to go around like the man, picking every jewel up off the sand and rocks.
    Now, however, I have learned that jewels can cut.

    I am now a traveler, one with only three jewels of real treasure.
    Some say having only three is not enough,
    That something must be wrong with myself.
    No. I tell these people.
    There is nothing wrong with me.
    I am simply as picky as picky can be.
    For I want someone who is there for me, and someone, in which, I can be there for.
    Someone who I can be proud to call my friend.
    One that I can happily boast about, whilst they walk by my side.

    The man and I are no longer friends.
    For I, unlike him, am I rather picky person of sorts.
    I have discovered morals, in which I wish to share with my friends.
    To save myself from being cut and to promote my happiness and that of others, I am a picky person of sorts when it comes to the jewels I pick up.