I’ve met countless girls before,
All falling at my feet, cheering at every score.
It should feel cool, maybe even divine,
But their praise only sickens this heart of mine.

Then I saw you, perched on the bleachers,
Unaffected, scribbling words like quiet preachers.
"That's rare," I mused with a lingering stare.
"You're rare," whispered thoughts I didn’t know were there.

Again, I found you in the hallways' tide,
Your shiny black hair, pen still your guide.
When your eyes met mine, a river took hold—
I drowned in their depths, a story untold.

You’re a rarity,...