A poem
You didn’t have to tell me who you were
When I first saw you, I saw you would be
The one who could be counted on to stare
The one who’d always fix that stare on me
I do not trumpet out my fabled words
I don’t pretend I hope to cure or thrill
Had I the option, I would cut these cords
I only speak because I can’t be still
But here you are to listen, every time
You always tell me I’m just why you came
And even though my poetry’s a crime
When we meet in the street you know my name
