Little Beau Peep-Poetry

A dinner with some friends.
Another day at the corner.
This is how her full week ends.
The crowd whispers, “could he be any shorter?”

A thickened figure incites chatter.
Stringy man, powerful spirit.
Being an intern was all that mattered.
His message, everyone wants to hear it.

A girl of six-foot-five.
A guy of five-foot-three.
In her step, no jive.
His everyday, ventriloquy.

Wet eyes lie down for bed.
The day’s closed for entertaining.
In her dreams, she’d wish she was dead.
In fan base, he was gaining.

The weekend has arrived as she strolls near his spot.
Another show is put on, but his eye catches a sight.
She walks right past him, her eyes, bloodshot.
He makes a quick dash; it was worth putting up a fight.

Feeling a tug at her arm, she decides to look down.
He looks up at her face after having run a mile.
First a trick, then a flash, and there’s no longer a frown!
A farewell tug to her hand, “you have a beautiful smile.”

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