But is it a competition?
Drowning, drowning in faults.
No match, I'm no match.
What does he see?
When he sees me?
Does he see a friend?
Maybe her and him are on rocky ground.
How could I wish for something like that?
I don't, not really.
She's a friend.
What if I was given the chance?
Would I take it selfishly?
Have I become that cynical?
No. No I can't, I really can't.
But under the circumstances....
No. No. No. No.
Not like I'd ever have the chance.
I'd like to know:
Does he laugh like that with her?
Does he smile at her like that?
Like he does with me?
YOU ARE READING
That Boy
PoetryThis is the first ongoing compilation story/poem piece of writing. Let's see how it goes. Luna Elvenfleur
