I Wanted to Write You Something

another poem I wrote about a boy I couldn't have

I wanted to write you something, something sweet.

How I gazed at you before we would meet. 

And when we met, how I felt the heat. 

I felt something spark, or maybe that was just me. 

You were the sun, and I was a tree, but you never shone your light upon me.

 

I wanted to write you something, something worth listening to.

How I wish I could be someone more like you. 

My bad flirting doesn’t seem to do. 

For you, my heart beats out of my chest and bleeds through. 

You roll your eyes at the mess I’ve made while I grab the broom. 

I wanted to write you something, something to make you see me. 

I do the working, while you do the ignoring. 

I’m just a friend who listens to your stories. 

Who can no longer enjoy the mornings.

 

I wanted to write you something, but now I don’t. 

If I asked you to hold my hand I am sure you won’t. 

My heart is old, waiting to be sold. 

My hope grows mold while gazing at your dazzling gold, I’ll never be worth an ounce of your soul. 

So I’ll sit here on your doorstep, heartbroken and cold.