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Nov 2013
Hello, good afternoon, sir—
how have you been today?
Oh, good, I had hoped
the day was treating you well.

You know, if you don't mind me saying, sir,
you remind me a lot
of another boy I knew.
In fact, I was pretty sure, sir,
that I could find him here
if I looked hard enough.
And actually I had thought, sir,
that he might have been you.

And I hope you do forgive me, sir,
I just wanted him to be here.
But now I clearly see, sir,
he's nowhere to be found,
and from up close, sir?
The two of you aren't so similar.

Try not to take it personally, sir,
but this boy was kind,
and he was considerate,
and he was caring,
and his smile held more sincerity than yours—
and if I'm being truly honest, sir,
I really think I loved him.

But I don't think I'll find him here, sir,
I don't think he's around anymore.

Please tell me if you see him, sir,
I'd really like to know.
You may have different hearts, sir,
but you'll be able to recognize him—
he looks exactly like you do.

Well, very nice to meet you, sir,
I think I'll be on my way.
But if you find the boy I'm scared has left,
kindly pay him my respects.
For Sophia

I feel like this one might need some explaining maybe. I made it kinda subtle and it's easier to understand if I describe it better. First and foremost, the use of the word "sir." I used it so repetitively to communicate how flustered the narrative voice was—how she'd hoped so badly to find this boy she might have loved and instead was met with a complete stranger. The word "sir" also kind of, if you picked up that he *was* the boy she wanted to find, was used to show that she didn't even recognize him anymore and felt like she needed to be formal with him again, as if meeting for the first time. Same with her saying "nice to meet you." As if he's a whole new person now. Also, when handwriting the title in my notebook, I accidentally wrote *respects* instead of *respect.* I decided to keep it as is. Because you can pay anybody respect, but you pay your *respects* to somebody that has passed away. I wanted to convey that the boy she loved was dead and that she missed him. So yep, those are my notes on what I meant in this poem. If you've read this far I really really love you. ***, Annmarie
annmarie
Written by
annmarie  Chicago
(Chicago)   
676
 
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