Only 16

About a girl who thought she found love.

Down on one knee, he revealed a box of satin. 
The setting was perfect, a warm summer night in Manhattan.

His head tilted up, and beheld a vision of beauty, 

He knew what he wanted, he knew his true duty.

Her eyes looked down, and she saw him

The night was dark, his image was dim. 

His eyes met hers, he began to speak: 

"Marry me," he said, "I'll love you 'til we're old and weak." 

She stood there in shock, happy yet scared

Tears formed in her eyes, she was finally prepared.

She wanted his hand, to love forever, 

But her past haunted her, and told her "never." 

There they stood, the two as a whole

"I love you with all my heart and soul." 

She needed to tell him, the pain was too much, 

Arms around her, skin afire from the touch. 

"If you're not ready, we don't have to do this."

"I am ready, I love you," she said with a kiss. 

Once again, tears dripped from her face

She had to tell him, here in this place. 

She looked at him crying, her soul sad and torn,

Thus began her story, fraught with scorn. 

"When I was 16, I met this guy.

Although he looked happy, I could tell he was shy. 

I would notice how he always acted,

There was one particular thing that got him distracted. 

Fascinated by words, he would constantly write,

The words brought him to darkness, away from the light. 

Over time, we got to know one another,

Like no one else, there was none other. 

One night he promised me romance and charm

Unbeknownst to me, instead he wrought harm.

He told me he loved me, and promised forever, 

But instead he broke me, he was maliciously clever. 

The memory of that car never left me,

Looking back now, I can finally see...

He stole my innocence, polluted my being

My spirit corrupted, my mind forever fleeing."

So there she stands before him, wounded and broken, 

Begging forgiveness for what had been spoken. 

To this day that thought remains in her mind

Never again her purity to find. 

What she thought was love in that romantic scene,

Was nothing but evil, she was only 16. 

Author's Note

Feel free to comment and/or criticize.

Reviews

[Brenden Moran]

Your poem is a box; when a poem is complete that box is filled with chocolate, lets say; but your box is not filled yet because I fear you have eaten some of those chocolates. Keep reworking this until that box is filled with the delicious goodies that everyone enjoys eating.