Saturday, February 27, 2010

My Ballad

so for washburn we're doing poetry, blah, blah, blah...
here's my ballad. it's really long and i'll probably end up cutting it down before i turn it in.

How I Broke the Heartbreaker--Ballad


It was Tuesday morning.

She came without a warning.

He was just sitting on the stairs,

And then she came walking by,

Her daddy is a multimillionaire.


Skin-tight clothes, little short skirt,

Her eyes alone could flirt.

Long blonde hair, plastered in makeup,

Twas the saddest thing I think I ever saw,

All these boys needed to wakeup.


Her lips told you yes, when her brain was really scheming.

That boy, well I knew he must have been dreaming.

But no, not about the one that he was with.

See, that’d be me.

Instead, he was thinking how to make me a myth.


She was a heartbreaker.

She went where ever the wind would take her.

A jock, then a geek.

A rich boy, a chess player, an average Joe.

All of them appraised her with the highest critique.


And see, when my boy went running,

I came up with an idea that was rather cunning.

Instead of feeling sad,

I’d become the heartbreaker,

And make him want me bad.


I dressed in all the clothing I’d deemed too scandalous to wear.

That little girl didn’t have a prayer.

I wondered why I’d never thought of it before.

She really was so simple,

And such a…bore.


Then Thursday, when I arrived at school,

The heads turned, and my boy did start to drool.

The blonde was sitting in his lap,

My anger swelled,

And I thought I would snap.


Until, of course, my plan began to work.

The quarterback came running when I smirked,

The homecoming king walked me to class,

And the band boys?

They carried me along with their brass.


And finally, when my boy realized it was me,

He got on his knees and began to plead.

I wanted to hug him and make the memories turn to dust,

And then I felt something new:

The feeling of distrust.


I rolled my eyes and walked away,

Leaving that handsome young man in dismay.

For, you see, I didn’t want to have to change for a boy,

That was just ridiculous.

I wasn’t anyone’s toy.


So I left that school and on Friday returned again,

With my old black clothes and a rumor that must be slain.

And still, right then, the most amazing thing did happen.

A young man with a blushing grin,

Told me in those clothes I did look most misshapen.


He said that I was beautiful, no matter what I wore,

But in those frightfully tight clothes, I looked like a bit of a…bore.

He told me I was pretty, was no faker

And needed no change,

And it was better to leave that look to the heartbreaker.


That reminded me of her, so I turned my head to see,

And what was happening brought me glee.

She was wearing thin-framed glasses, old ratty clothing,

And her makeup must’ve run out,

And now a sad look she was adorning.


Still, she looked pretty, in that way we girls do,

But now no more boys were running without ado.

Then, that glee was fleeing,

And a felt much remorse,

Apparently that heartbreaker look was reeling.


When I walked up to her, an olive branch in my hand,

She accepted it with a sound that was unplanned.

A sob from her lips, I told her this,

“No girl deserves someone

Who’s only interesting in a French kiss.”


I walked away from that,

With a friend, a nice boy—who was also nice to look at—

And no longer did we have a heartbreaker,

But if I stumbled upon another,

I’d surely need to fix her.


okay. so i just wrote it this morning cuz i couldn't sleep so the rhyming kinda sux... but whatever.



  1. hi alyssa! dont know if you remember me (:D)... but i seem to have stumbled over your blog via twitter. how are youuu? its probably been some time since we last talked, eh? :))))


  2. yeah, totally! and OF COURSE i remember you!!! how's the opposite side of the world? CA's much better:D