A poem from the sap tree
I am the type of guy who writes poetry in chemistry class
to the girl who sits 3 rows over and 1 seat back. in the margins
of my notes I put her initials in hearts with hopes that they will never
be broken apart. to tell her my secrets buried in my chest would
be a crime to the world. quick glances and nervous smiles composed
the person she saw everyday even though there was so much more I wanted her to see inside.
never did the thought walk through my mind of a girl like her falling for a pathetic
mess like me.