That Dream is Not About Him

In the middle of classroom
with faces I all knew,
I’m sitting alone
empty, waiting
for something
to come
yet;
Who am I fooling in this?
Dreaming my former love
is not what it seems.
It has nothing
to do in fate
or true love
but the
score
of what I am now in life.

Sitting in front of class –
Sure he’s my first love,
but he’s a past
I will keep
behind
me.
He just symbolizes love
I’m yearning to achieve;
When will the time come,
to meet the man
that will sit
beside
me?

I’m not denying something
for others that’s dreamy.
This is a wisdom
I learned to use,
understand,
and see
truth
beyond what I’m perceiving.

I made this poem, not for him.
I made this for the sake
of art I grown up;
using feelings,
experience,
or dreams
I can
write
poems, making my artistic
persona I embrace.
So, good luck, fellows.
Understand me,
insult me,
who damn
cares?

:p