Waterloo
"We all learn lessons in life. Some stick, some don't. I have always learned more from rejection and failure than from acceptance and success."
Henry Rollins
When they were young, the crowds had whispered so
That they would be together through the years
But life had led them both where winds would blow
Diff’rent paths from that predicted by peers
He often wondered how it came to pass
Recalling moments filled with hope and care
Yet time had slipped, and through a clouded glass
Some memories remained, though faint and rare
A book of poems he wrote with tender hand
His friend had drawn the pictures by his side
They worked for hours, weaving something grand
Their afternoons and nights, with joy and pride
But he was shy, fearful to walk her home
Instead, he’d hoped his words would win her heart
He dreamed his poems might, in time, become
The key to all he’d wanted from the start
Yet silence spoke for him when words were due
His timorous heart had failed him then and there.
Too scared of what rejection’s sting could do
He let his chance slip by without a care
Fear of rejection, thus his Waterloo
A battle that he never chose to fight
And though they’d both grown older, it was true
The past remained, still shimmering with light
Their days of youth were gone, yet he’d look back
On what they’d shared, and wonder at the cost
For all the roads he’d taken off that track
He still could feel the weight of what was lost
09-21-2024
© Vic Evora
Poem written ten years ago. Resurrected last week. Few revisions to bring it up to date.
High school memories, oh so long ago.
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