Atleast One Freind

Please don't steal this poem I wrote it for my great grandfather before he died two years ago

A old man turned to me and asked
How many friends have you?
Why ten or twenty friends have I
I named off just a few
He smile a knowing smile at me
And sadly shook his head
How lucky you must be
To have so many friends he said
But think of what I'm saying
There's so much you don't know
A friend is just not someone
To whom you say hello
A friend's a tender shoulder
On which you softly cry
A well to pour your troubles down
And raise your spirits high
A friend's a hand to pull you up
From darknes and dispair
When you other so called friends
Have helped to put you there
So answer once again my child
And then he stood there
Awaiting my reply
And finally I answered
Atleast one friend have I
THANKS FOR BEING MY FRIEND