A ballad I wrote a few years ago.

Sunday morning, yawning aloud

Flipping through magazines

Staring down aisle number two

Rattling coins in jeans

Wearing her nametag upside down

Hair in a sloppy bun

She pointed at the camera

Trying to have some fun

Addie was nearly seventeen

Pretty but immature

Doodling on an old receipt

When Jack came through the door

Green eyes brushed passed her round dark brown

He strutted far away

Leaning over cash register

She wondered what to say

Years before, this fascination

erupted in her brain

Addie wanted Jack, needed him

Friends found this love insane

Stalking him through the mirror that

leans above the aisles

Releases hair from pony tail

She clears her throat and smiles

Hawk-like, circling one to ten

At four, he lands, stares down

shelves with different types of cards

Snatches a pink with sounds

Head held high, a tad conceited

Pushing his way through air

She’s floating amongst sun-lit clouds

They both begin to stare

Eye contact, a competition

“Too early to be here,”

Jack mumbles those words to Addie,

who moves hair behind ear

“Every Sunday this is me”

“How much do you get paid?”

Fluttering in her pumping chest

Girl’s response is delayed

Swallowing unborn sentences

Unfree in self-made cage

Sighs, looks down, then she says,

“Nothing much, just minimum wage”

Moist palms and dilating pupils,

Addie glances at the card

“Happy birthday to my girlfriend”

Forever her heart will be scarred

He laughs, “Yeah, last minute shopping,

I had so much to do

I also got Jill a necklace

A little stuffed bear, too”

Addie smiles, slowly scans card

In plastic bag it went

“Your total is two ninety nine”

Gives him change of one cent

“I love the girl, she is eighteen

It will be a good day”

Addie nods and whispers,

“Feelings, please go away”

Turning, enraged with jealousy

Frowning at cigarettes

Thinking herself an idiot

Brain filling with regrets