I've made him a present.
Not much, just a small bracelet.
Three in fact.
He loves them.
More than I ever expected.
What did she give him?
Herself; a bow atop her head.
How self centered.
And here I am, worrying that I'm not enough.
Maybe I'm not.
But neither is she.
YOU ARE READING
That Boy
PoetryThis is the first ongoing compilation story/poem piece of writing. Let's see how it goes. Luna Elvenfleur
