I see him every day,
But does he see me?
I hear every word he says,
But does he hear any of my own?
His stormy blue eyes with a secret,
Looking into mine,
His accidental brush of my skin,
His rare smile that I would die for,
His sweet voice,
Everything about him reminds me why I love him,
Why I would die for him,
He walks past and questions,
'Will you be my friend, or just another backstabber? '
Always in his eyes,
I reply, 'I will be anything you need me to be! '
Why can't he see?
He walks past,
I have to cope with the fact,
That he will never speak to me,
Unless I speak first.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem