I first saw you in the second lesson. Your hood up and head down, whatever had happened, you had still a smile. I turned away in embarassment as I'd think you'd see me. You see, I'm not the one to confront people, but you, you are.
And that is how we came to be.
I suppose you saw me too, I hope you barely saw me. You smiled and turned. Of course she then came, she couldn't resist the chance of flirting, I don't know what went through your head, but you followed. Out the door and waited for the lesson to start.
You never came back until the very last lesson. Art.
You'd sit there, you'd work, phenomenally. You were different here, like it was your home. The teachers were fond of you and your artwork, as of me. It's beautiful, how art can change you. They didn't hesistate to let you go. They simply said, "Art". That's all.
