I've Got A Question
Why am I
The quiet boy?
Why am I
The person walking
On the other side of
The road from you with
My eyes memorizing my laces
Instead of
Learning the lines of strangers faces.
Why am I
The good boy?
Why am I
The person listening
To you talk of how
There are too many men
To choose from
And how its hard for you
To talk to an attractive
Guy the same way
You talk to me.
Why am I
The average boy?
Why am I
The person standing in
My door way accidentally
Hearing you refer
To your team as
“nine guys and Loal”
Why am I
The lonely boy?
Why am I the person watching
You squeeze his hand,
Walk backwards and blow
Him a kiss then turn
To me.
Tell me your dreams, fears,
Your love then vow to be his.
Why am I
The me that can
Never be with you?
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