So there's this guy... no it's not what you think,... part 2.

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Poetry  |  House: Booksie Classic
This is about a boy we all know, that friend we adore for all his quirks and things we hate about him that end up teaching us something in the end.

JM, enjoy.

Submitted: November 24, 2015

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Submitted: November 24, 2015

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Back by popular demand, the boy with the pretty little smile and those eyes that are sly little indicators of stories he wishes he could share with you if given the chance.

Now seeing as how he’s the scapegoat for unrequited love, let’s give our hero/villain a reason for why he is.

He could be superman or the kryptonite that kills him.

But don’t let him know that.

“Once upon a time…” doesn’t seem so fitting for our permanently painted prince of price tags.

**However, she does believe this boy, not yet a man, will be given that happily ever after**

But don’t let him know that.

A tribute to the mirror, mirror on the wall, this boy not yet a man believes he is the fairest in the land, and who is she to stop him from dreaming?

The harsh reality, she admires his ability to believe in himself so strongly that is disgusts most people.

Cocky, over-confident, extra special, she’s heard it all about the boy in the golf polo and belt that cost more than the monitor she writes this on.

Small confession, he does come to mind when Ms. Swift mentions a boy “so tall, and handsome as hell, he’s so bad and he does it so well.”

But not how you’d think, she’s had gorgeous guy friends, been beautiful herself, both self-proclaimed and reminded on the regular by boys who want nothing more than a night of fun, nothing more.

False pretenses and stimulated senses were all she knew.

But this boy, he seemed different, at least to her, at least for now.

Maybe she was right, maybe she was wrong, he could be King Arthur, or Lancelot, and she figured it just depended on that damn sword in the rock, Excalibur…

Was he set for destiny, or would he have to share more than he wanted?

She already knew…

But don’t let him know that.


© Copyright 2019 Desiree Davenport. All rights reserved.

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