Out Of A Writing Topic

I looked down upon you,

The first time we met,

I have never told this to you

But a little judgment, you did get.

You weren't as good looking as your brother,

Or as tall as me,

Were a dark, skinny guy,

Yes, I was shallow, I agree.

I waved at you, 

Just the same day after class,

And we found friendship,

In bunking, in noodles, and in attempting to pass.

You found college clubs,

Worked hard, skipped meals,

I joined them because

Eating without you was a big deal.

You celebrated your birthday

Helping those in need,

Mesmerized I stood,

Forgetting all sins, sums, and greed.

You saw who I really was,

And loved what you see,

You treated me like an angel,

God sent, you were to me

Who knew you would,

Feel that way,

Who knew I had a heart as good

That it could make yours sway.

What I felt for you,

Is not earthly,

No relation is invented,

Which of it, could be worthy.

Yet we went ahead

And called it love,

The only kind 

That we knew of.

We failed miserably,

To protect life in our bond,

Trying to fit an ocean

In the depth of a pond.

Messed things up,

Didn't it,

I regret that part,

Just a little bit.

But mostly, 

it's all a happy memory,

It shaped my soul 

As I set you free.

Indulged in life now,

I move at godspeed,

But when I stop to take a breathe,

My relief owes you a sliver of its meed.

For I am never out of a writing topic,

Not on trips nor in quarantine,

Thanks to the wonderful boy

I met at the age of 19.