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.
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