Tonight I am donning my heavy coat
And my very warm if stiff gloves
And walking under the stars.

I don't know my destination, but
When I get there I will sit down
And write poems that start off
Being about other people, but
Somehow end up being about
How utterly pathetic I think I am.

Much as I am doing now.

She's coming with me when I leave,
As she always does, though she
Doesn't know it, and probably never will.

Someday though I might just call her
And tell her that I never forgot,
And that I wish we could have been
Friends forever, as I hoped and
Maybe even thought we would be.

But I will probably never say
Another word to her again, except
In poems she will never read,
And songs she will never hear.

And even if she did, I doubt that
She'd know I was talking to her,
As I never told her just how much
She illuminated my life, and how much
Corny, besotted poetry I wrote about her.

So, as the fictional songs I wrote
Become more true every second,
I realise how ecstatic I would be if
She called me tomorrow, and how much
I would love to hug her again, and
How little it hurts now.

I'll be here just waiting for you...
I'll be under your stars forever...

12/24/2002

Author's Note: lines in italics are borrowed from 'Beautiful' by the Smashing Pumpkins, written by Billy Corgan.

Posted on 12/24/2002
Copyright © 2024 Richard Vince