Bad Poetry And Paintings

CHAPTER ONE

Oh, how lovely you are.

The way the sun shines just for you.
Your smile as beautiful as any garden.

And you smiled, not at me, but at the world, and I knew.

How lovely you are.

The way the flowers bloom just for you.
I just knew you were the reason the world spun.

Oh, how lovely you are.
The way the constellation line up for you.

And how I just wanted you

Oh, how lovely you are.
Oh, how lovely...

Wirt crumpled up the piece of writing with a long groan. He was tired, his hands beginning to cramp from all the writing. He tossed the ball of paper towards the trash can next to his desk, pulling at his hair when it landed right next to the bin. He huffed at the papers scattered across his trash can. He's written better, he was just off his game.

"Cmon, Wirt." He whispered to himself, getting another piece of paper from his bottom desk drawer.

"Just focus...just...focus." He had to finish this poem today. In less than 24 hours, he would have to read it aloud in his creative writing class, which wasn't a problem. He was a somewhat confident writer, he knew he was good. His teacher swooned over his poetry and his classmates often asked for help with their writing. They all knew Wirts poems came from somewhere deep in his heart. Every time he sat down to write, his mind went straight to one person.
But that was just the problem.

It was all intimate. No one in his class would know who his poems were about. What truly mattered was that he knew what every line meant, and why every word was picked. So reading it wouldn't be a problem, right? There was nothing different about this semester, same class, same teacher, same old students- well- almost the same students.

On the first day of Wirt's second semester, he walked into his second-period class early and sat at his table in the very front. He had strolled right in, no use in knocking, his arrival was expected. He was always early for Miss Penny's class.

"Oh, Wirt!" Miss Penny smiled, looking up from her mess of a desk, her long hair falling out of her bun. "I want to get your opinion on this week's assignment." Wirt nodded, going along with what Miss Penny wanted to work on. She wanted to assign a free-write poem- no rules, no patterns, nothing. Just writing. Being back in class gave Wirt a sense of purpose.

"So, how's your brother?" Miss Penny had asked once she straightened out her desk. Wirt looked up at the clock by the door. Students wouldnt start filling the class for another five minutes.

"He's great, working hard to keep his grades up."

Miss Penny smiled. "Does he still have his tutor?

Dipper is an excellent teacher, smart, bright boy."
Wirt's heart skipped at the mention of Dipper. "Y-yeah," he struggled, "he's, uh, he's great, Always around during Christmas break. Not that I'm complaining! The company was nice, I mean he's nice. For helping Greg, of course." Wirt shut his mouth, mentally smacking himself across the head.

Miss Penny only hummed, turning back to her computer.

Over Christmas break, he had done absolutely nothing. He stayed in his room and wrote.
Sometimes, he'd take his brother and his friends out to get pizza, or he'd spend the day standing in the kitchen watching his brother's tutor- like a creep- explain his Christmas break assignment.