Poem!
So this is what I get for listening to Byron's poetry on the way over from Toi this morning...
A Romeo he was in looks and eyes
And panted over every girl with lust
He carefully adorned each breath with sighs,
And over each and every curl fussed.
He was not selective in love,
Every girl was “sent from above.”
He langoured o’er love as much as he could,
But high school is a busy time of life.
His friends all tried to help, as well they should,
But our Romeo refused all strife,
Especially sports - “empowr’d”
With love, and so called a coward
His reputation was of the worst sort,
Of those that think, or rather pretend to,
Who refrain from work, from life, and from sport
Imag’nary lovers great, but real ones few.
His fame was little, and that was marred -
He was truly unpopular.
Until one great day, long since forgotten,
When our Romeo found his Juliet.
She wore a simple blue dress of cotton.
Open mouthed, he drooled ‘til his chin was wet.
“Tis her!” he cried with all his voice,
But he’d made a terrible choice.
For Juliet was of a rival school,
But little that mattered, for something more
Prevented the match; she was all that’s cool -
A cheerleader, prom queen, and all that lore
That makes a young girl beautiful,
Fascinating and wonderful
He pondered over the time which would be right,
To confess his heart to his fair lover,
And during halftime of the football fight,
He grabbed her arm and raced to find cover.
Without a word, pulled her away,
But Juliet had much to say.
“How dare you!” she screamed, stopping right in place,
And before our Romeo could respond,
She removed his hand, slapped him in the face,
Returned to the field, and like that, was gone.
Romeo’s heart now burned with fire,
He had to have her, his desire.
After the game he tried with her once more,
He fell to his knees, confessed his love true -
How she made his heart and mind dip and soar.
When he was done, she said, “let me tell you:
You’re nothing like what I would like,
So seriously, go take a hike.”
He persisted for a better response
“Look, women need more than a Romeo,
We want something more!” and littered with taunts,
She explained her ideal, how she would know,
When the right person comes along,
And how our Romeo was wrong.
“You aren’t strong or handsome, or even kind,
From the way you dress, I see you’re not rich,
And the thoughts are few in your feeble mind,
So with the next girl, try a different pitch.
You aren’t my Romeo,” she said,
With that cruel wound, left him for dead.
And with those words, she walked into the night.
He was heartbroken, like often before.
But this time was different - she was his light,
His reason all gone, he’s settle the score:
“If she won’t love me, no one will.”
And with that found a bottle of pills.
The next day the city all knew the tale,
How the unpopular boy decided
To take his own life, since his love had failed,
And the beautiful cheerleader prided
Herself on the boy’s reaction,
Proud of her fatal attraction.
Out of curiosity, one spring day,
She visited his grave and read these lines:
“Juliet when you read this, you will say
I was your Romeo, despite the signs.”
Juliet couldn’t help but laugh
At such a worthless epitaph.
I actually had those last two lines come into my head while I was cleaning up my apartment, and had to form a whole poem around them. Yay.
A Romeo he was in looks and eyes
And panted over every girl with lust
He carefully adorned each breath with sighs,
And over each and every curl fussed.
He was not selective in love,
Every girl was “sent from above.”
He langoured o’er love as much as he could,
But high school is a busy time of life.
His friends all tried to help, as well they should,
But our Romeo refused all strife,
Especially sports - “empowr’d”
With love, and so called a coward
His reputation was of the worst sort,
Of those that think, or rather pretend to,
Who refrain from work, from life, and from sport
Imag’nary lovers great, but real ones few.
His fame was little, and that was marred -
He was truly unpopular.
Until one great day, long since forgotten,
When our Romeo found his Juliet.
She wore a simple blue dress of cotton.
Open mouthed, he drooled ‘til his chin was wet.
“Tis her!” he cried with all his voice,
But he’d made a terrible choice.
For Juliet was of a rival school,
But little that mattered, for something more
Prevented the match; she was all that’s cool -
A cheerleader, prom queen, and all that lore
That makes a young girl beautiful,
Fascinating and wonderful
He pondered over the time which would be right,
To confess his heart to his fair lover,
And during halftime of the football fight,
He grabbed her arm and raced to find cover.
Without a word, pulled her away,
But Juliet had much to say.
“How dare you!” she screamed, stopping right in place,
And before our Romeo could respond,
She removed his hand, slapped him in the face,
Returned to the field, and like that, was gone.
Romeo’s heart now burned with fire,
He had to have her, his desire.
After the game he tried with her once more,
He fell to his knees, confessed his love true -
How she made his heart and mind dip and soar.
When he was done, she said, “let me tell you:
You’re nothing like what I would like,
So seriously, go take a hike.”
He persisted for a better response
“Look, women need more than a Romeo,
We want something more!” and littered with taunts,
She explained her ideal, how she would know,
When the right person comes along,
And how our Romeo was wrong.
“You aren’t strong or handsome, or even kind,
From the way you dress, I see you’re not rich,
And the thoughts are few in your feeble mind,
So with the next girl, try a different pitch.
You aren’t my Romeo,” she said,
With that cruel wound, left him for dead.
And with those words, she walked into the night.
He was heartbroken, like often before.
But this time was different - she was his light,
His reason all gone, he’s settle the score:
“If she won’t love me, no one will.”
And with that found a bottle of pills.
The next day the city all knew the tale,
How the unpopular boy decided
To take his own life, since his love had failed,
And the beautiful cheerleader prided
Herself on the boy’s reaction,
Proud of her fatal attraction.
Out of curiosity, one spring day,
She visited his grave and read these lines:
“Juliet when you read this, you will say
I was your Romeo, despite the signs.”
Juliet couldn’t help but laugh
At such a worthless epitaph.
I actually had those last two lines come into my head while I was cleaning up my apartment, and had to form a whole poem around them. Yay.