Pawn and queen

I love it when we walk and talk, just us two and the world,

I tried to make you feel special and unique but on ground find fallen words.

Everyone is in love with you and with this I realize truth,

You’re special to absolutely everyone… But I’m not special to you.

There is nothing I could do for you, which others wouldn't do.

From adventuring often to sharing music, on whatever path you choose.

I wish there was just one thing to make me special, to make me something worthwhile,

But it’s a pipe dream of unimaginative lengths, just like my broken smile.

You’re lucky that your special and that makes you one of a kind.

Trying to find someone that compares to you is like the blind leading the blind.

So here we are in Check again, you are and will always be queen.

To move every space with little regard, for the pawn that could have been.

Thanks for the moments when I felt king; each movement was worth its score.

Alas now the queen needs no one’s help, the king becomes pawn once more.

He’ll walk himself off of the board and smile that at least you’re you.

Until at least someone special arrives, to make this story true.

So we twist and we turn and make each move with abandon left to chance.

I hope one day this pawn will become king and we can be friends at last and dance.

Edward Ramsden

26/2/13

This is the worst poem I've ever written. It is self indulgent and arrogant.

I cant fucking believe that I gave this to someone.

What the fuck was I thinking? Maybe I can get it back somehow.