"And the poets are just kids who didn't make it."

Lol, my attempt at writing a poem about the environment for my Introduction to Sociology class a few months ago.

Lilies bloom,
in the gloom, 
of a dirty river.

The morning breeze, 
blowing hard,
makes you shiver.

The warming rays
of the sun,
shining bright,
life's giver.

Beautiful to behold,
a sight to see, 
tress and flowers fringe the river.

Question is;
do we care
about nature,
even just a sliver?

"Let them know."

As we walked side by side, I felt a strange calmness wash over me. It was as though the whole scene was telling me that we fit, that this is the way it's supposed to be.
I smiled a small smile. Maybe it was.
Your left hand suddenly reaches for my right, trying to intertwine your fingers with mine. I struggle for a moment, panicking at your bold move. I turn to look at you, probing your reaction.
What are you doing? My face seemed to ask, shock clearly registered upon it.You smiled with contentment. Happy. It occurred to me that your hand was so soft.
"Let them know that you are the reason I called off the engagement," you said.