I was bored.
So I drew her portrait on my desk.
She said it was awesome.
I mumbled a shy thank you.

Over time the picture faded.
She asked me to draw another.
This time she looked into my eyes.
I fell in love that day in March
but didn't let her know.

In a week she was in a coma,
mangled remains of a dark country road
and bourbon cocktails.

I learned of her death in drivers Ed. class.
I sat there numb, drenched in somber irony.
The instructor told us she was a wild child.
I told him to go to hell.
Detention was waived that day.

My desk in room 136 had become an epitaph board.
Notes from sorrow filled teens surrounded
the soft pencil lines.
Even the "preps" that she detested shared their grief
I wrote "I love you", but didn't sign my name.

Over time the picture faded.
A new girl filled the empty desk.
We shared smiles during lectures

I drew her portrait on my desk.



thanks, funkylele

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