Sonnet for an Unrequited Love

There you sit, your hair all mussed
(and if I may be so bold)
I can’t seem to grasp just how unjust
It is that I have not your hand to hold
Your laugh shakes off my self-made bower
Like a balloon pricked by a pin
So as we sit and waste the hour
I can feel alive again

So even though she may be yours

You will be mine forever more