Paper crown, you walk into the room
In a sun-gilded gown.
I stare at you for the longest time —
Till you catch my eye and send me a smile.
I turn to the tables,
Drinking till I can't see you through all that wine.
Because I can't bear to watch
You dance with Prince Charming —
The Sun and the galaxy
Revolving each other,
Creating a catastrophe
Till I die —
For I am but a mere cowboy.
A misfit in the fancy room
Filled with pretty people and pretty clothes
Gossiping and dancing.
I hide behind the curtains
And watch the scene unfold.
I wish so desperately —
I wish you would see me —
But then again,
I'm too ashamed of myself.
I wish I could just block me out.
Trays are passed, utensils clatter —
Beautiful waiters run around —
Dying from the demands of the crowds.
You sit at the center-table,
Your smile lighting up the room.
I try my best to hide and cherish it —
I try not to make a single move, a single sound.
My fingers tremble,
I know you are unattainable.
Prince Charming kisses your hand —
Your father smiles his approval.
He walks out of the room
His arrogance dimming every other light, —
Making me want to throw my boots at him.
I know I am not perfect, never worthy —
But I hope, maybe in some fantasy
You'd look at me the same way
And you wouldn't give a damn
About what your father said.
I slither away, the party's dispersing —
I catch my breath, hiding in the shadows,
Til your hands reach out to me — "Hello!"
I stand astounded, my mind's not working —
"You were uninvited, weren't you?
From the corner of my eye I've been watching you."
From behind you give me leftovers —
"Eat", you whisper.
And I cannot believe
Whether this is a dream or reality.
I reach out to accept your kindness —
And before I get to
Express my thanks, —
There you are, accompanying the royalties,
And I'm reminded of my status again —
For you are the Queen —
And I am but a mere cowboy.
YOU ARE READING
chai and an interview with life. (DISCONTINUED)
Poetryfinish all your work and sit down because i will either lull you to sleep or have you wake up, screaming. or maybe we could talk over a vanilla milkshake and fall in love for the night. your call. NOTE: this is the first draft, unedited version. i p...
