To The Boy I Met In My 9th Art Class

You don't still drive like a drag racer,

do you? 

Speeding through the city streets under the silver moon,

Slipping past parked street cars on a deserted road

Lit by lustrous, lonely light posts

Are you yet consumed by wayward habits,

Getting lost in thought and lethargy

With your head spinning so fast in false ecstasy

Many miles from your home,

And many more minutes after midnight?

Never once does your seatbelt click,

But the odds are always on your side,

And God is always in your favor,

But I worry and I fret,

And I care about you still,

And in every instance

My head can't help but wonder,

How you feel or do,

But if you're lonely, you should know,

That I am lonely like you, too.