A Mean Poem

I wanted to write a mean poem.
A poem filled with spite.
Something to indite them.
To silently accuse their blight.

Then as I wrote it, memories
came rushing in of times gone
by and pictures of the leaves
in fall; how time changes the fawn.

Friendship has its ups and downs,
I've seen it take its course.
Like laughter to a circus clown,
its fire ignites without remorse.

At times dear friends can hurt you, true;
an act done out of care.
Is it worth the friendship skewed
to condemn a thing so rare?