A short poem |
The Jazz Boy You lit up in the rain wearing my green jacket. My pants were rolled up to keep them dry And my flip-flops left my feet covered in mud. At that moment standing at the light, I told you, ‘Promise me you’ll never be angry at me again.’ And you promised me. An hour walk after spending the whole day together; We’d played backgammon and I made you pie And for all that time I thought that you would be My friend and just my friend- for longer than last time. But it was not enough for you and that night You called me. You said you were lying in the grass, Watching the stars and enjoying being eighteen. You tell me, ‘I have always liked you and I like you now’. But since I first met you in that music class, Where I failed miserably and you excelled with ease, I’ve moved on. You are not the boy for me with your wild hair and your love of smooth jazz And you are not that boy who will make me happy. We agree on so seldom few things and You have thrown my friendship away before. When the static followed your voice, I knew that I would have to choose Between the jazz boy and his unpredictable friendship or The other boy who I moved on from you with. I remembered how when I told you last summer that I liked you so much, You thought about how your friends disliked my look And you forgot me. I chose you before and you didn’t care. And the second you told me you liked me, I suddenly wanted you less because You weren’t something I couldn’t have. And that was the last we talked. I can’t shake this feeling of regret that has stayed with me Since I said goodnight and goodbye And hung up the phone and that feeling Stays with me now. I hate the sound of jazz but when I hear it, it sounds like you. I didn’t forget about you. Still, I miss you when you walk by in the hall, And I miss you, still, lighting up in the rain. |