The first meeting of eyes made me see
how cute a particular being can be.
I glanced at her glancing, stared at
her staring, kissed her cheek and saw

every single peek. Soon I knew what
was going on, it was impossible love
in its prettiest form. Not forbidden by law,
but frowned upon and disabled by social norm.

There were other girls, but not quite as
cute, like she was a snake and I played
the flute, but she loved her basket, straight
from the heart and I was just a new part

of a different puzzle, for a different day.
I wanted to love you, if only I may.

A girl is breathing heavily, her red nose
indicates ones feelings like those you stumble
upon walking, strolling through the city,
scarf wearing, caught the flu, and leaf

staring, sky as moist as cloudy cushions
taking the blow, thinking about the smell of
newly bought to read, freshly printed and well
proudly he speaks of his belongings left, to part

the route we walked on repeat. The lass is
helpless, less selfassured than before, as if
she messed things up. she wore her dress for,
I guess, a guy who tore her being apart, the best

possible part of a girl, her being, vulnerable, stirred
by my attempt and try and suddenly forgot to cry.

This is my little sidestory, besides
I am a ******, a *****, one who
thinks he will be loved but rides
a train of lies. What can he do

but be himself, knowing he'll never
make top shelf, half of his days
he spends thinking of different ways
to change, to go on with enough pride.

Quit while I'm ahead, stop with all
my confidence and walk away, so clever,
without shame. Things never fall
so hard off the bottom shelf. He died

yesterday, made place for a better man,
the main story is more than just a plan.

I've seen a lot of things, I want that
too. Greedfully not accepting what
I already have. To me it's nothing.
This bird already has one wing

and another, he can fly wherever.
But will this flying, reckless bird ever
stop looking for a nest a partner and
some stories to tell? Well he does bend

the air and tell his friends all the stories.
You'd say he's happy even more he's
filled with joy for every flight he takes,
because every single one is a journey, be this

never to forget. But, even filled, he is
empty, prepared for any of the possible stakes.

Guys are never just talking, why do
I feel so jealous, when all you say is no.
Do I want to work for it that hard? Am
I the only one not knowing how to act

around this beautiful human being?
I wished that we could have been seeing
eachother a long time ago, but now
we'll never be like that. Look for something

new. How do I love if I'm not loved back?
You can try to change, change is good.
But do not take it too far, carefully choose

what you want to be. I for one want you
to change into someone less popular.
Then again I'm not the one to force you.

Now I lost and don't have you any-
more, things are different, bad kind
of changes emerge in my pitiful mind.
He can't refrain himself from you, can he?

I know he'll try and if he does fail, bail
him out of the prison she locked him in.
Throw her grip and your feelings in a bin,
they're useless pieces tied together, forced

but not fitting. I am fearing for the worst
to happen. Cause she is not your holy grail
neither your reason to be pale, there are some
different things going on inside that little boy.

Soon nothing will be left, he will be his own decoy.
This feels so much better than the former emptiness of numb.

I see the way you act around them,
see, finally, what you really are.
I'm taking steps to show myself
I turn around and take steps to

get away from you and all your
pretty lies, all your enigmas and
mysteries, I don't want to be a part
of your world anymore, you must

be some kind of witch for taking and
crushing all those hearts, at least mine
is one you'll never take, or I will take it
back, just like steps but different, motorical

moment, I am taking back my words, now
I'll run past your beautiful riddles, step back!