Some girl I never knew
knew an art that wasn’t kung fu.
She did not whistle well
when her peaches didn’t sell.
And a boy I never liked
loved her not at first sight.
He kissed her on a day it didn’t rain
never to lay eyes on her again.
Nary a soul whispers her name,
nary a heart feels any shame.
She was pretty not so long ago,
this girl I will never know.