The Funny Fellow

Christ a poet

Once knew a girl who would never cling, always she would seat calmily, her eyes ever-wandering yet lips never questioning. Her demeanor never shallow, she would cower in solitude leaving conversations destitute. Her goals were never swallowed up in the band-wagon’s shadow but would give a glimpse of humor when complexities arose. Her time was precious, her mannerism hallowed yet nothing seemed perfectly right with this funny fellow . The back seat in class was always attended by her religiously, to catch every philosophical order although the latter seemed to prove better as logic severed any unanswered rhema. 

She wore intelligence on her sleeves, her persistence strong in skin and in the futility of the fellow kin in making her do their will. As relaxed as a humming bee, she would peck through insecurities not necessarily giving antidoctes but prescribing detectable maladies.

This lady I’d often see, alone even in the…

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