by David James
The boy was sure of something,
She was just the one.
The girl was sure of nothing,
Her life had just begun.
For him, he'd found his partner,
There was never any doubt.
For her, he was fine for now,
But there was more to learn about.
He thought it was a perfect start,
Something bound to surely grow.
She thought it may be but a pause,
But had no words to tell him so.
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Like puerile poetry? Forgive the rhyming "drone on". My sister found this in an old shoe box that was in my parents' attic. I wrote it at 17. It was done just before I flunked out of college. Yes, I went back and finished a couple of years later.