Dead Girl's Memoir

A man of his word, he seemed to be,

if you had met him, I'm sure you'd agree.

He'd strut through the room with his head held high,

he'd smile at pretty ladies and simply just try.

But trying was unnecessary with his looks,

He was like the men from my fairytale books.

I stayed far away and watched as he worked,

I'd watch his muscles flex through his sweaty t-shirt.

I felt ashamed of my constant staring,

the way my eyes would follow without even caring.

But he had me hooked in that way,

it's a pity that I couldn't stay.

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A series of poems going through the most important memories of a dead girl, before her death.