Busboys and Poets

I watch them all go by

On the street outside

All the boys who you can

Tell are hiding secrets

Deep inside

All the walk on the street

Below with their head down,

Holding a secret I wish to

Know, they smile when I

Walk by, but then they look

Back down to the pavement

“What’s wrong” I ask, as if

He would tell me,

“Well, you see, I saw you miss,

Looking at me from your window

Above and then I had to put my

Head back down, or I knew I’d

Fall in love.”

“What? In love? From just a

Glance?” I ask, as if he would

Tell me

“Yes, why shouldn’t I? You see,

Miss, I am a poet.” He smiled

And walked on by.

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