I'm still full of
7th grade doubt,
the way she
looked at me
and then looked away
from that point forward
I never felt that I ever
had a chance.
years blink by,
mistakes clink together
like empty bottles
thrown into the
recycling bin.
that doubt still follows me
no matter how fast I run,
no matter how far I go
and no matter the pace
and I'm still shy below
the bluest of skies
in the yellowest of suns
the way she looked that
very day...
(Image from saatchiart.com by John Carlson)
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