Wednesday, September 05, 2007

He

He was waiting in that room for me.

I was talking with friends.

I didn’t remember,

I didn’t know who he was,

I didn’t care.

He used to be a rebel with long hair and worn boots.

Now a bit more haggard-beaten up by life and the road;

A bit more pensive, more thoughtful, not as renowned.

We spoke and I couldn’t resist,

I missed him-oddly enough.

He loved the blue eyes of that country girl.

I loved the mind of that Italian boy.

He said he’d been waiting for me,

For a girl; a person like me;

Someone who connected with him;

Someone who gave him hope, energy, inspiration.

For me; the world seemed to spin a bit faster,

The days seemed longer, the nights shorter and I felt special-even if fleeting.

He said he was waiting in that room for me.

Where I was talking with friends.

I didn’t remember,

I didn’t know who he was,

And I didn’t care.

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