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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