Returning To Poetry

Well, I'm writing poetry again.

I used to write when I was younger--

It wasn't good, but it rhymed at least

And after a while I got bored of it

 

But sometime later in my scholastic endeavors,

I would give into the popular demand

(Of my mother and father)

And enroll in a university

 

Late in the September of my first year

I finally began to write again;

Not because I wanted to

But because it just sort of happened

 

What possessed me to do such a thing?

A woman, of course.

That was the month I met

The most beautiful girl I had ever seen

 

We encountered by accident

We got along well

And we spent an evening together

Playing, of all things, a few friendly games of chess

 

For days after, she was all I could think about

And without having much say in the matter

I ended up returning to poetry

For the first time in years

 

I composed what I thought was a lovely piece,

Wrote it with pencil and paper,

Folded it into a small rectangle,

And prepared to give it to her the next time we spoke

 

That time would come the following week

At the birthday party of one of my dormmates

I was nervous because parties are, well…

Let's just say they're not my natural habitat

 

I waited anxiously for her to arrive

But when she did, she showed up with someone.

I hoped that he was just a friend,

Or maybe even a sibling, or anything else--

 

But to save me the stress of relying on my judgment,

The guy made a formal announcement that night

About how the two of them started dating that week

Because of course they did

 

Message received, sir

I left the party then and threw away the poem

So I don't know exactly what it said

But I definitely remember concluding it with:

 

 

Sincerely,

The Chessplayer

 

Which is very stupid, I know

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