Here's a poetic division for a boy who caused a dozen,
A dozen expectations and a bucket of hope.
But was I hopeless?
Yes, I was, and it felt tight like a strangling rope.

If I could count those glances and stares that you threw, I would.
To me they're unexplainable but I know there is a meaning.
Those dark orbs of yours sometimes lighten and a shade of grey,
They keep taunting me, under pressure, made my heart beating.

Sweet talk, sweet words, sweet nothings.
How come they zoned out to be a foul?
There is nothing to blame, not even my challenged reputations.
Afterall, it did not matter, because you made me fall.

I cannot forget your hints, they're all stuck in my head.
Every little word you say is quite tangible.
But I regret everything, all the unsolved puzzles,
This memory is the worst and surely unforgettable.

Your label's blank, erased, and unnamed,
I had scorched down my crown and of course, my ability.
As fragile and broken as a cracked vase,
Blue boy, you should know that you're nothing to me.