The Lonely Girl Hears the Sirens, Do You?

I carved a path for the spiders In hopes that a friend will come by Or that a friend will stay. For i am no longer accompanied by my old pals As their days move up the branch to see the sky better My days slip back down the trunk Like a slug on a rainy day. My normal necessities evolved my life into a bore Cities, trains, cafes, the forest All invite me to play but i am tired After a no-work day. Those numbered days in my brain lead me to a confusing conclusion; Is it until i meet a new friend or an old friend based on illusions?