he is gone, away from my sight as i have assigned him to be, he flees from classroom to classroom as to avoid my vision but i catch him in fleeting moments; he is peter pan, with a band of his cousins whom he designates as his merry lost boys, they traipse along the road instead of within a grand wood but they are emblems of curiosity all the same; he is the trees, constant and protecting and changing and growing, it is winter but he is ever green enough to stand out against the snow; he is the boy-next-door-type, hair falling just so, a smile to bring hope to where fire could have blazed, nothing can stop him, yet he is kind and considerate and unattainable; he is lovely, among the stars he glimmers, you can see his name as you gaze at the lights; he is forever brighter than you could ever start to describe; he is free.
YOU ARE READING
melted
Poetry❝the present was the present, and we didn't even know it.❞ dedicated to kjh and wb highest ranking: #27 in poetry
