The Good Guy
A polite smile, not forced, but out of courtesy
Slowly stretches your cheeks.
That gesture, a sullen look in your eyes
Like someone close has somehow died.
It makes me wonder in these times thereafter
Which dig a hole and quench the joy,
The pleasure and all the laughter.
I wonder what it feels like, a shattered heart,
Pouring love for a lover a world apart.
Like flowers wilt, and lose that irreplaceable beauty
Of gently waving, side to side, quietly gazing
Beneath the sky.
A laugh aloud obscures the truth,
Silence all but surely moots
The first impression, the only one
That seems to last till then and done.
Skip a beat, like a kettle drum,
Steaming boldly, rattling, shaking
Just when all seems through and through,
A quickened glance and awkward step
Conveys a sign from me to you.
I'm the good guy, sitting on that wall,
Going crazy on fire inside my chest
To kiss your cheek or touch your breast.
But that's not me, to reach out, to take a chance,
To spill emotion like some broken pipe.
A polite smile, not forced, but out of courtesy,
Slowly grows across your face,
I sit and wait, always late,
Foolish looks, hopeless beliefs,
Just wasting time in all my dreams.