The Chaos

The Boy with the Green Eyes

The boy with the green eyes sits in the corner with me.

His charming smile broke down my walls of sadness,

And his light laughter embraced my hurting heart.

While I read my book and surrounded myself with words,

He created his own words, and they danced about the page.

He would write lovely poems and pass them to me,

With a shy and hopeful smile painted on his face.

I soaked in every word, every line, every poem,

Determined to memorize the curve of his lettering,

And thoughtful words hastily scribbled across the page.

I tried understand his heart through his words

That created such a feeling in my heart.

Each poem touched my heart and created

Such a lovely feeling that I cannot describe.

Now, the boy with the soft green eyes

No longer writes poems.

His eyes are drooping at the edges

And his hair is always ruffled.

Something has changed him,

And the poems are deeply tucked away somewhere.

I wonder what caused it and wish

So desperately that I could reverse it and bring back

The boy with the green eyes who wrote lovely poems.