As long as I can remember, and perhaps even before, I have been a hopeless romantic. I had my first crush on a girl when I was three; when I was eight, I still had a crush on her and reflected this by giving her a pair of earrings that my mom helped me make. Her family moved away a year later and I was crushed.
By middle school my romanticism had reached its peak cringe, a borderline emo phase on which I look back and try to laugh. In fifth grade, when I was ten, I started having a crush on a new girl, and being who I am, I wanted to let her know in a romantic way. I wrote her a long poem and on Valentine’s Day in the year two-thousand and nine, ten years ago, I snuck the poem into her locker at recess. I don’t remember what the poem I wrote said, but I do remember the rejection poem she put in my locker later that day. It read:
Roses are red
Violets are Blue
I’m too young
And so are you
P.S. another time
I think my poem was better. To add to my humiliation, I came across her teacher in the hallway the following day, who congratulated me on writing such a good poem.
Despite this rough start to poetry, I continued using it as an emotional outlet through middle school, and my poems were exceptionally bad and cringingly melodramatic. In honor of Valentine’s Day and for your entertainment, I have included an annotated selection of some of my middle school poems that related to romance. I hope you will enjoy.
Glow
A golden glow
Flows through my body
Warms my heart
And opens my mind
I don’t remember who I wrote this about, but it definitely reflects much more positive emotion and probably is peak Danyel.
Rumor
A terrible infection
That spreads like wildfire
A secret, divulged
A trust, violated
A malignant rumor
Destroying me inside
I’m pretty sure I wrote this poem after one of my ‘friends’ told everyone who I had a crush on.
Desire
My heart’s desire
Lies in the arms
Of another man
And accounts me every detail
Little does she know
She is eating away
At my soul
At this time, I had a crush on one of my best friends, who was ‘dating’ (whatever that means in middle school) another one of our friends; evidently I was not super happy about this.
These are just three of the worst (or best entertainment value) from several small notebooks’ worth that I wrote between 5th-8th grade. To pick these out, I went through all of them, and was cringing at my past self the entire time. Though they make good stories to laugh at, as we reflect on the past this Valentine’s Day, I am definitely glad not to be in middle school anymore.