July 10, 2011

• 15

  Rhymetime here we go...

  Once upon a time, there was a boy who loved a girl who liked to play games.
  She had no shame, liked to tease and inflame, but he loved her all the same.
  He fed her addiction, feeding her beliefs of conviction,
  But she was smart and knew the end to every start.
  They were but characters in a classic fiction.
  First he adores, but he will soon bore.
  First he endures, but he will grow unsure.
  First she revels in playing the devil,
  Then she'll fall too far below his level.
  Then she'll miss him in bitter reminisce.
  Of course her prediction eventually came to fruition.
  She grew up one step too late
  Behind the boy whose feelings began to abate.
  As soon as the stakes changed out of her favor,
  Fate decided to play the saboteur.
  All she wanted to know was is it too late?
  Was it possible to recreate what she did forsake?
  The boy and the girl headed towards heartache.
  It was no one's mistake.
  Eventually, growth must be repotted or break.
  On his ladder of achievements, she was his widest step.
  In her history of discontent, he was her biggest regret.
  They now think back to the days
  When they swam to love's greatest depth
  But one of them hasn't dried off yet.
  She likes to practice their duet,
  Every day like a reflex,
  a muscle memory she can't forget.
  The end.

  • 6:55 pm
  • 2 Comments