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The Social Standard
August 25, 2013
Shes a queen and I'm a peasant, trembling as she passes with her personal guard. I've lost count of the moments we have been so close we could touch and yet, I held my tongue and bowed my head. For someone as unworthy as me deserves no less than the guillotine for longing after such a siren. Often times I find myself captivated by her guarded beauty, but soon after the sting of realities harsh bitterness finds its way to my heart. And so I endure the torment of the football teams king who never gives a thought to the real lover of his bride.
© Xiao H., Naperville, IL
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