It was mine.

It was mine to give
to the one I chose
Instead it was taken,
forever from my grasp.

Stole the most valuable item
That this fifteen year old possessed.

It was mine.
It was suppose to be a gift.

Somewhere out there
the potential recipient
knows not what was lost.

It was mine.
He stole my gift.

I had visions on how it
would one day be given.

It was mine.
He stole my dream.

For years what I gave
could never bring
me happiness.
It wasn't The gift.

It was mine.
He stole my joy.

I should be able to reminisce
fondly when girl talk
falls to that time
but I remain quiet.

It was mine.
He stole my memories.

A stranger made himself familiar
in a place he should have never known.