My First Love…

My first love,
He was a millionaire,
These aren’t lies that I breath into the air,
You don’t believe me?
It’s true!
And he was white too!
The love that we shared was real and true.
Against all odd’s,
We found each other,
We were young,
But we loved one another.
The black girl,
From a council house,
With a young single mother,
Had unintentionally found someone quite opposite,
To be my lover.
We met in 2000,
The millennium.
Star crossed lovers,
From two very different houses,
Feeling all grown up,
In college now,
Ditched those school blouses,
A levels,
Studying English language,
Paying less attention to the teacher’s quotes,
Sending each other love notes,
We slowly progressed from notes to texts,
At that time,
It wasn’t all about the internet,
Then lovers,
It was official,
Two had become one,
We did,
Five years later,
Now adults,
Not teenagers,
we separated,
And spread our wings.
This boy,
This millionaire,
This millionaire white boy,
He loved me,
This girl,
This working class,
This working classed black girl,
I loved him.
Little did we realise,
How special this was,
Because it was so easy.
Now I get barely any attention,
And if I do,
It is so sleazy.
Most people peak at the end,
But I did at the start,
No one since,
Has truly had my heart,
But others have had his,
And so we remain apart.
Was irrelevant to us you see,
It wasn’t about colour,
Or money,
Our net worth,
Was our love,
That was our identity,
And yet no longer in contact,
I will always think of him fondly,
Because he accepted me,
All of me,
And loved me,
We needed nothing but each others company.
My first love,
Was just a boy,
And I was just a girl.

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