Disclaimer: Same as last time, I do not own any of the characters in the story. Now back to your regularly scheduled fiction story:
Chapter Two:
From the viewpoint of Gordo:
I've been sitting here for hours… trying to write the perfect poem to show Lizzie how I really feel about her. Perhaps I need more knowledge about this subject before I try and become an expert. My trashcan is filled with crumpled up pieces of paper. It was really foolish to think that I could write a decent poem after only one day of the poetry unit. I know what you're thinking… this can't have been my first time studying poetry… and it isn't. This is merely my first time studying how to write poetry. All the specifics about meter and rhyme and rhythm. It can get really confusing.. especially knowing that if you don't do it just right, it's a piece of rubbish.
So, I've made up my mind: perhaps if I rented some books from the library to speed up my learning process. I admit; I'm impatient. It's only because I really think that this might help me tell Lizzie the things I've never been able to say. I've always been told that I write eloquently, but that's only been for essays and such. I'm just hoping I'll have the same talents when it comes to poetry. Well, tomorrow's another day. Ahh, sleep.. a friend I hold dear.
Anonymous viewpoint:
The next day after school, Gordo made his way to the library where he took out a book of poetry and another book, which had a detailed outline of how to correctly write a poem. Afterwards, he went to Lizzie's house, where he met her and Miranda to do homework together. The three pulled out their English assignment. They had to make a structural analysis of an untitled, anonymous poem.
"I hate this structural analysis junk!" Miranda complained.
"Totally! What's the point of figuring out how many syllables there are in each line? Does it really matter?" Lizzie whined along.
"Well, yeah, it does." Gordo replied. "You see, there's a certain pattern you have to follow. If there's five syllables in one line, there have to be five syllables in each line of that stanza. In this poem there's iambic pentameter."
"Iambic pan-whater?" Miranda asked, with a confused look plastered on her face.
"Iambic pentameter. It means that's there's five syllables in everything, with an iambic stress pattern." He replied.
"That's nice, but.. what's iambic mean?" Lizzie asked.
"An iambic stress pattern is an unstressed syllable followed by a stressed syllable."
"Oookay…" Miranda said. Starting to understand, but still slightly confused.
"Well, think about rhythm. If you had the phrase 'another girl' in a poem, which parts of those words would you emphasize? In order to figure it out, you have to break it down into separate syllables and stress what comes most naturally. In this case, the 'a' in 'another' comes out unstressed and 'noth' comes out stressed. Then 'er' is unstressed and 'girl' becomes the following stressed syllable. Make sense?" He said.
"Well, sort of. It's not entirely clear, but at least I have a better idea. Thanks Gordo." Lizzie smiled. "I never knew you knew so much about poetry."
"I told you I found it interesting… I guess I just really absorbed what was taught." He replied. He didn't know that he knew so much either. Paying close attention had really paid off, and the book he took out of the library seemed to help, too. He had only quickly skimmed through some random parts before taking it out, but even that affected his knowledge greatly. He looked at the clocked and noticed the time, six o'clock. "I ought to be going, guys. It's probably close to dinnertime, and you know how my parents are when I'm late for dinner. See you around." He picked up his backpack and his book of poems fell out.
"Hey, you dropped this." Miranda said as she picked it up. "Hey, what is it? … A book of poems?" She opened it up. "…Love poems?"
"Hey, what's with that, Gordo?" Lizzie inquired.
"Like I've said before, I like poetry, it's interesting. I want to try writing some of my own." Gordo said. Good save, he thought.
"But, Gordo, love poems?" Miranda pressed.
"C'mon! Stop giving me a hard time!" Gordo said as he became nervous. He knew that Miranda knew his secret. He knew that she knew specifically why he'd gotten a book about love poems. "Can I have that now, I need to go home." Miranda handed him the book and he left promptly.
"That was really weird." Lizzie remarked after he left, without even saying goodbye.
"Yeah…" Miranda replied.
"Wonder what's up with him?" Lizzie asked.
"If you only knew.." Miranda said under her breath.
"What?" Lizzie asked.
"Oh, nothing. Probably just some weird Gordo thing. You know how he is."
"Yeah, I guess you're right." Lizzie agreed. "Nothing to worry about."
A/N: It a little long because I knew where I wanted to go with this chapter, I just didn't know that it would take me that long to get there. Hope you enjoyed. Review!