Survivor

A one shot poem about love and depression

His hair ruffled,
soul of inky midnight
He strolled toward me,
through crowds of spite
His individuality,
worthy of a copyright
Oceans for eyes,
in the dappled light
I could not speak first,
surely he would not reply
Few seconds to see,
his bravado no more than a lie
A captivating presence,
he passes by me
My limbs prickle,
heart no longer free
I hadn't a choice,
I’d lost my cool
With barely a thought,
I’d become a fool
Twisting around,
fear minimized
A survivor waited,
his smile exercised.