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In the spring
I saw you liked a pretty girl
with a pretty smile
a pretty laugh
and a great body

So over the summer I made myself pretty too
changed my hair
changed my makeup
and ate healthy

When I came back to school in the fall
I got double takes from boys
and jealous eyes from girls
but not a single look came from you.
The worst thing that ever happened to me
Wouldn't be when my father left
I'd be lying if I said it was.

The worst thing that ever happened to me
Didn't leave visible scars
Up and down my arms

The worst thing that ever happened to me
Happens to begin with 'L'
And ends with an 'E'

The worst thing that ever happened to me
Is the title of
This ****** poem
As I walked with you
down the crowded halls,
I slowly realized how much
I will miss this year.
I will miss walking with you to every class.
I will miss getting comfort from you when I'm down.
I will miss laughing and joking around in class.
I will miss judging people together.
I will miss being best friends.

I'm so sorry I ruined it.
I will miss the way things used to be.
This was written for a very good friend of mine. One weekend happened to destroy our close-knit relationship we had. That weekend was my one regret in my entire life.
The willow tree looks like it's wilting more than usual today,
As if there are invisible weights tied around the branches dragging it towards the ground.
I don't see resistance in the branches; no apparent will to perk up.
It's given up.
This nature lies so strangely parallel to my life, as if the invisible weights reflect my stance in society.
Held back. Hard to break away. Difficult to want to make change.
Mad
I'm so mad at me, for being attracted by you.
I'm so mad at me, for thinking about you.
I'm so mad at me, for always watching you.
I'm so mad at me, for loving you.

Because you'll never feel for me what i feel for you.
O.P
Find a Poet Not a poser, not a "it's just a hobby" poet. Find one who mumbles lines as they scramble for a pen at breakfast; who shakes their head randomly when their thoughts aren't rhyming properly;  who has notebooks stashed around the house that you must never touch.
2. Listen Savor the spoken words, for those are harder to express. Keep in mind that they can't be edited and re-written, and be forgiving when a mistake is made.
3. Read The body speaks as loudly as words on a page do. When their eyes are closed or focused on the ceiling and the fingers are tapping out syllables, recognize the unique process. Respect the need for quiet, because if you look closely, you can read the poem on their face before they write it on the page.
4. Write Write your story together. Grab hold of the pen and hang on as you move across the page of life. Sometimes you will dance across, others you will be dragged. You may have to cross out a word, or a line, or a page, but don't give up. Discouragement is a poet's biggest enemy, inarticulateness their biggest fear. So end each day with a semi-colon, because the story will never end the way you think it will, and there must be room for more. There is always room for more, more words, more laughter, more tears, more love,
When you love a poet.
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