1 week
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2 Weeks
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3 Weeks passed
And He had received no letters at all.
Although he continued to tell Himself that He did not care...
His eyes told a different story.
Everyday He approached His locker hopefully...
Everyday He found himself disappointed,
Due to the absence of a certain small envelope.
He then would return home with another hopeful thought,
And would again be disappointed.
He looked everywhere, expectantly,
Waiting for another little girl to come hand Him one,
Or perhaps have the writer Herself trip in front of him again...
He waited
Maybe in the mail
He thought.
Or in my locker
Or perhaps along the ground on my way home...
Or even attached to another test of mine.
All these things He thought.
None of these things happened.
And after almost four weeks...
This lonely boy,
Lost hope.
He knew the inevitable had happened,
That the only person He thought might love Him
Had given up.
And this boy once again felt alone,
In this presumedly cruel lonesome world.
~M