Poet (bp coyle)

I’ve decided what I want for my birthday,’ she informed me.

Great,’ I replied, having totally forgotten that her birthday was near.

Two weeks to go,’ she said cheerfully, ‘so you have plenty of time.’

Okay, well what is it?’

I think it would be really sweet and romantic if you…’ she paused with a smile, working on the dramatic effect. ‘If you wrote a poem for me.’

I actually laughed out loud, until I realised that she was serious.

You are joking,’ I exclaimed. ‘You have to be. Me write a poem? I haven’t even read a poem since I left school.’

No joke,’ she assured me. ‘I want a poem.’

I have never written a poem.’

Well then, how lovely will it be that your very first poem will be for me.’ She hugged herself and shivered.

So here I am writing and scribbling, scribbling and writing.

God, I am so useless.

I love you

Your eyes are blue.

Your hair is blonde…

That’s what I’ve come up with so far. Now trying to find a rhyme for ‘blonde’.,,

Pond?

Bond?

Fond?

I’ll have to break up with her next week. There’s really is no other choice.

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