Just Like James (Poetry)

The first time I saw Mickey
I was only seventeen
he was everything I’d dreamed of —
he was moody, he was mean

The next time I remember
he’d a dolly on his arm
he was joking — she was laughing
he was full of chat and charm

There were other times I saw him
though he rarely noticed me
but once he smiled as if somehow
he’d read my diary

I hung on to my hopeless crush
and adored him from afar
while first he rode a scooter
then his dad bought him a car —

a sporty job — all gleaming red
drew girlfriends by the score
he drove too fast by all accounts
ran rings around the law

The last time I saw Mickey
he was in that death-machine
it was no surprise he hit that tree
he just idolized James Dean