To the unknown student whose book I bought at McKay's

To the unknown student whose book I bought at McKay's

For fifty cents

I saw your broken heart;

it was underlined in red

on the fifteenth page, and since

the spot was warped and wrinkled (from being marked

with an angry hand, I guessed) the book fell open there

as if it wanted to share

your pain.

            I’ve read

it since again and again,

trying to picture you sitting in your room

after school, your checkered uniform still on,

the boy-band posters smiling down

while all around

you sense the world has lost its color

and nothing matters -- and soon

you’ll have to see him walking to class
or in Mr. Meadow's room,

and you’re contemplating whether your heart

will even continue to beat
when you pass
him in the hall,

and crying you take your ballpoint pen

to underline “I’ll never love again.”