Em

I met Em in the silver swirls,
on reflective surfaces of pearls.
Her head was full of chocolate curls,
that began to dance when she twirls.
Her eyes are brown with green tents,
when she smiles, her cheek's dent.
The color of her cheeks are rose,
chunky glasses sit on her nose.
Her skin is white and pure like snow,
But that's as far as her innocence goes...
She reads all the time,
staying up late,
to get it all down,
to keep it all straight.
It's scary to think that she looks like me,
all nerdy, predictable, and five foot three.
At the end of the day,
it turns to night;
she fades away,
from lack of light.
She disappears,
without a good-bye.
She doesn't miss me.
She doesn't cry.
Low and behold,
I will see her again;
without a heart felt greeting,
the only question is when.