The Boy Who Met No Girl

She could have entertained my insistent presence, but maybe it was all too sudden.
I was invariably the type to be overly smitten, her scent I latched on to like altar cloth to incense,
She was frustrated — grew weary of my growing interest —
but I was nonetheless ardent,
I was helpless to her every utterance, sycophant to her flair, blindly ignorant of her disgust that I was there.

She could have it all, from the bottom of my heart to ATM withdrawals,
I would endlessly fall, never to see the fault, for she was mine to call,
She would witness the wonderful, being the very source of splendour I could only have dreamt of,
I would live vicariously through her smiles, those heavenly moments over which I so readily fawned.

She said No though.
My heart stopped like that period, face dropped as I felt like an idiot,
She had “led me to believe…” as I saw it, but the truth was that I saw naught,
In my pursuit of this dame, was I was really just concerned for my ego —
worried about who I would hold tight under my loose sheets in the coming cold season?
Did I ever give her enough reason to consider my proposition—
or was my judgment easy to come to, that of a man guilty of treason?

All I know is she said No folks,
And it matters not if it was because of how I hold my forks,
She was all I saw when I closed my mind’s doors,
Now she is all I remember as the clock tocks.

All I am is a boy with no girl,
All I am is the boy who met No Girl.

Yours in perpetuity,


Evans Mbora Campbell.

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