Apollo

I met a guy in my English class, and I swear
He was divine
With sun-kissed skin, and hair falling in golden waves

He was an honest young man who never told a lie
Always offering help to those in need,
He would dance from dawn till dusk if given the chance

(His eyes always glowed just a little bit brighter than normal whenever he laughed)
And he had a way with words, I’d never heard before
Spinning vibrant stories that etched themselves into your mind
Fantastical tales that you’d never forget

He also lived for music, sometimes I would watch him in-between classes
Strumming an old guitar softly beneath the shade of the Mesquite trees
And when he played, the whole world fell silent

(He likes Hyacinthus flowers, he sang a song about them once, and it sounded like heartbreak)
He talked to me about the gods once, the Greek ones
Every word flowed like honey as he told me his thoughts
About the omnipotent and all-powerful things that they were,
I was surprised when he asked me about my own thoughts

So, I told him that even the most all-powerful and omnipotent surely have their limits
That even the gods get tired too and need a break once and awhile
Everyone eventually does, surely the gods most of all

(His only response to my words was a smile)
I’ve come to the conclusion that I met Apollo in that classroom
Because that boy shone like the sun
So accepting and warm, in a way that only a god could manage

I never saw him again after that class ended
But I expected as much, so every once and in a while
During the day, when the sun is high and burning
I give it a smile and a wave

(Just in case)