About All the Boys I Never Loved

I once wrote a sonnet for a pointless percussionist. Telling him he is lucky to be getting them at an early age. A fool was I neglecting his nonchalance with my heart. I once wrote a sonnet for a dull director. Telling him he haunts my dreams with his graceful tunes. A fool was I wasting my skill on that opening line. I once wrote a poem for an admirable athlete. Telling him his words echo down the street. A fool was I asking for more than he ever cared. A fool am I explaining this misuse of time. Telling him how he will be related to the movies. And thus, I am writing a poem for a mesmerizing manager.