The boy who sits two chairs down from me in my high school sophomore English class, I hope this finds you well (Poem)

The boy who sits two chairs down
He reminds me of leather jackets 
And rock and roll
But not in the way you would think
It isn’t loud or too much 
It's soft and perfect 
He has messy hair and tan skin
When he first came here, he had an accent
Something British and almost posh
He no longer has that accent
I almost miss it
We do not know each other
But he seems nice
Like cigarette smoke in the basement 
And the soft bass playing
We know nothing about each other
But he sits two chairs down

P.S. If this ever finds you, which I doubt it will. I think of you often. Not for what we could have been but just because you were cool and I wasn't. I hope you are doing well and got out of that hell hole.