I stare at a face, across a forest

A challenging glint in my eyes

Hoping for her to stay and talk to me

Wishing that she would hear out my cries

-

She talks to me, true, but how sad is the fact

That all she talks to me about is him

That loathsome little boy, without friend or fairy

His mind sharp, his conversational skills dim

-

He owns her heart and knows it not

That little freakish looser priss

One day, he'll hurt her unknowingly

But one day, I know I'll hurt him for this

-

Why is he the one always chosen

For favors, for power, for a clean start

I once thought I owned all this forest

But now I realize I never held her heart

-

I will always wait for her to look

And see me as more than a friend/brother

But her eyes, her lovely emerald green eyes

Seem to always be set on another