Beauty on Metro

I saw this girl on the metro.

I was so taken that I took a scrap of paper and wrote a few lines in her honor

Nothing sexual, perverse, or even flirty.

I just like looking at beauty.

So I sat there for two or three stops with soft and polite eyes reading her expressions

She was my book

What was her name? I’ll never know

That was fine with me

I find inspiration in the weirdest of ways

A cute girl on a train can make me write faster than an English professor ever could

Knowing the girl could never read my words and the professor would has little sway

I would rather write to an unknown beauty’s honor

Than one old man’s pleasure.