If I were a poet,
I'd write words of wisdom and insight

In places of least convenience
In places one wouldn't expect,
Because when searching for enlightenment
There's no chance of finding it

Instead,
I'd write love stories and life lessons
On stained walls,
Crumbling bricks,
The corners of sidewalks

Traps laid for the unprepared
Traps laid to be stumbled upon
Unexpectedly and suddenly,
Perfectly and when needed most


However, I am no poet and know nothing of these things,
Nothing but wisdoms and insights stumbled upon past.

He decided to put it off.
To not tell her how he really felt.
He thought it would change things,
And boy did it, but not how he expected....

He thought she would climb mountains and cross rivers to earn his love.
He thought he was too good for her.

When in reality, she was the one to escape when she didn't get what she wanted.

Her instincts told her he was bad news. But like any other adolescent wreck, she desired a bad boy. Her best friend accused her of insanity as she fell for the motorcycle-riding, cigarette-rolling, tattooed rebel. But she simply ignored it.

You had to give him props: he wasn't all bad:
He made her feel special, made her feel wanted. Held her hand in public, took her for romantic rides, listened to her as she spilled her feelings out to him on top of his garage, gazing longingly at the stars.

But as soon as it came down to the three magic words, he let his opportunity slide right by him.

From then on, he played hard to get, not opening up to her as easily, and the signs were clear as crystal to her.

She left him in a heartbeat.

Now he lies alone, yearning for the days when he has someone to hold.
He was afraid to admit he missed her, but missing her was all that he knew to do.

Now riding her very own Harley Davidson, she rides off into the night, forgetting the boy who refused to admit he loved her..