His presence
She ignored.
His hands
That wiped away her tears,
She did not hold.
His words of love,
Of waiting forever for her,
She did not believe.
His genuine smile,
She did not appreciate.
His songs of love,
While playing the guitar,
She did not listen to.
It was in every way,
In each loving look,
That he made it known
How much he treasured her,
But she was too blind
To even bat an eye towards him.
It was in every crooked rose
That he hid in his coat,
In every hour he spent late at night
To wait for her to go home,
In every penny he wasted
To get her decent meals-
That he displayed so openly
What words wouldn't suffice
To convey so completely.
It was in the times
That he walked under the rain,
To make sure she's safe;
That he bought her medicine,
To make sure she's cured;
That he sent people away,
To let her take a sound nap;
That he slowed down on purpose,
Even when inconvenient,
To keep her from getting scared-
That she should have realized
How sincere and true he was.
But it is too late.