Never Be

She created an image so real you could almost reach out and touch it.

Writing about what you know, she said. Is the most important thing.

As soon as I heart those words.

I took my pencil and Wrote.

I wrote of myself.

My pain and my joy.

My confidence and my insecurities

The pain... Those things make me who i am.

I realize that now.


I know this boy.

He's tall.

He's got brown eyes and a deep voice.

He's funny and he's confident.

He plays sports too.

He runs to the good and races to the bad.

He's popular.

Yet he looks at the weaker and smiles.


His smile!

it makes me smile...

He sings and he plays the piano.

Is there anything he can't do?


I know this girl.

She's short.

She is got blue eyes and a higher voice.

She's shy and insecure.

She's a "Theater Geek."

She hides from the good, afraid of  what it might do to her.

And hurts, aches, from the fear of the bad.

She' unknown, but wishes she wasn't.

She cries too much

A laughs too loud.


He doesn't know who she is.


She goes home and cries herself to sleep, listening to sad songs.

He goes home and laughs with his friends, while they listen to A happy songs.


She know he will never be hers

While he only know of his girlfriend.


She feels like she's drowning

While he feels lighter than air.


How? She asked me one day. How can I go on with all this pain, pain I caused myself

Because i Had to like him? Watching him be happy? Without a clue about what he does to me?


How? He asks his friends. How did i get so lucky to fund such an amazing girl?


They are so different, yet so the same.


One has everything.

One has nothing.

It;'s the worst and the best kind of love.


Every time she smiles she hopes he's watching....

Praying he'll fall in love with er smile like she has with his....


I know this guy. He's tall and handsome. Totally wonderful.

I know this girl. She is short and average. Totally normal.


They are so different, yet so the same.


It's the most awful and wonderful kind of love...

Too bad it will never be.

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