The Thing About Love, A Poetic Book of Poems

Guardian Angel

To begin this stereotype,
I met a girl, very shy.
With auburn hair,
and sea colored eyes.

She never sat still,
and had nervous hands.
She never looked up.
Too interested in her vans.

We rarely spoke.
I admired from afar.
The girl in the back
with the little chin scar.

Years went by
with few words between.
Then I heard her voice.
Every word came out so clean.

Talking of parties
Things no angel should see
I decided protecting her innocence
was solely up to me.

I stayed yards behind.
I admired from afar.
As she went into his house
and later, his car.

Seconds went by
With few words between
My angel, no longer
God, what a scene.

Days went by
And she only looked south.
Trying to conceal
The cut on her mouth.

Thinking of indiscretions
Things no angel should see
I decided her vengeance
was solely up to me

Three days passed
Everyone had heard the news
Nothing was recognizable
Except his bloodstained shoes.

She cried tears of relief.
What else could it be?
And soon I found my chance.
As she looked to me.

Years went by
With few special words between
And now the girl who looks down
Belongs solely to me.