Roma

In a bar in Rome today,

I fell in love with an Irish boy.

I was drinking Guinness

and he seemed impressed

and pulled chairs up for my family.

My father offered him a pint,

and the boy asked for Guinness

and his brogue caught my heart.

My father tried to talk to him

about America and how we were the best

and I, always ashamed of arrogance,

stared at my hands

while the boy stared at me.

He asked me questions

about myself

and I didn't know what to say.

No one ever asks me anything,

but he did.

I answered honestly

and my father kicked me under the table.

I avoided answering the questions then,

but the boy was curious.

He wanted to know me.

No one ever wants to know me,

but he did.

What did I want to do

Want to study

What were my dreams

Questions my father couldn't be bothered with.

I wanted to ask the boy those same questions,

because I was curious, too,

and I wanted to know him

and his dreams,

but my father wouldn't have it.

America is number one,

and no one likes Europeans anyway.

America, America, America.

I got the boy's first name

and he got mine

and we'll never speak again.

Reviews

[Kleio13]

Hmmm......I notice that work gets more cynic by the eye draws on every line.
great work and i love how your'e endings wrap up everything

[Molly Garnet]

thank you very much

[MOON]

I love your voice very original you make the characters interesting and say so much like a short story . Lovely write.

[Molly Garnet]

Thank you the lovely review and enjoying my writing

[Coyote Poetry]

I enjoyed the poem. Those small conversations are important. I like the location and the good discussion. I like her internal thoughts in the amazing poetry.
Coyote