Tounge-In-Cheek Poem by Scout Jean

I don't talk much anymore.
My eyes will do that for me.
Of how I've pained
and life's redundancy has become a bore.

I've kept hope.
Hope to see a face.
I wait in the corner
at six o'clock.
In hope.

'Today I fell in love! ! ' I once exclaimed.
But only love of a moron that is
for no one has fallen
so quickly
so foolishly
as have I.
And since he's left
all things have been the same.

The birds may chirp.
The dogs may bark.
But they are no make up
for that love of mine.
For even this old stump
that I sit upon
has heard my heart rip.

'You are too young to love' I was told.
'You are not more 15! '
'Love has no age.' I would say.
'Well if it did it certainly would not be 15! '

As the weed's roots eat the tree.
My love for him
gave comfort to me.

They say four leafs clover will give you a fortune.
I say a man with sinking eyes
will give your heart an extortion.

'He won't care girl.'Sue said.
'About your hair.'
'About your dress.'
'And certainly about your love.'
'That is unless, ' She giggled.
'You undress,
Spread and don't give him a second guess.'
She laughed.

'But he is not like that.' I was assured.
'All men are like that.' Her southern accent pierced my head.
'Besides the young ones now-a-days have no meaning of love.'
'And do the old ones? ' I asked.
She was quiet.
She was no more than an old maid.
'How do you know it is this love' She mocked.
'I am certain.'

A man? I realized I wrote.
'A silly boy' He claimed
I quote.

For A gril knows no love.
Until a boy, a silly boy.
that makes it hurt
to think about.