The Boy

Filed in Gather Writing Essential by on December 16, 2013 0 Comments

She was a sinner, he was a fool

She never understood him, he loved her too

greatly to deceive himself. And his hands were clean,

their purity an imperfection to the blue eyes of youth

 

She was a goddess. The boys wanted her bad

He despised the selfishness that the others had

But he was the weak one to think she was cruel

In serving her so faithfully, he served himself too

 

She called him brother though she never was his sister

If there were two of her he might feel loved,

but two of him were always with her

Her smiles were deceptions. By the mirror she cried alone

 

How could she never know that I was her slave?

I curse every memory when I hear her name

She has forgotten me, a form with no face

I miss the boy I was when I was her slave

 

Her beauty was intoxicating, and too often she

was far too intoxicated to remember me

We wept in our indecision, and her fall from grace

remains my regret forever to my great distaste

 

I’ve since seen her several times when we both were high

I’d seen her features in every face, and earnestly though I

know the girl was bad for me, she still leaves a trace

of the ruin of her beauty and a lonely boy’s mistakes

 

Humans are fragile. They break so easily

A word or two can twist our spirits irreparably

I feel nothing when she visits, she feels nothing when she sees

the eyes of a fellow sinner and a phantom of me

 

How could she never know that I was her slave?

I curse every memory when I hear her name

She has forgotten me, a form with no face

I miss the boy I was when I was her slave

 

He sees her by the window

and goes to say hello

As there’s nothing to be said,

he leaves her alone

He’s going overseas

She’ll stay at home

They both dwell on their memories

and live on their own

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