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Poem about my crush, who some of you know about. If not, the people who know will tell you.
I see you enter tutor period,
at the beginning of the day,
you sit down, without a word,
briefly acknowledging my existence,
with either a stare, or a smile.
Breaktime rolls around,
we sometimes talk,
and sometimes not,
we don't talk about much,
only about music,
the bands we love,
and other mindless things.
Lunchtimes are always the same.
I play out the music,
we idlely chat,
it's fun, we both smile,
and I barely think a thing of it.
Yet, what you really don't know,
is you occupy my every thought,
each time I see you,
I feel happier, in a strange yet pleasant way,
I have a hunch you like me too,
but you never seem to tell.
Are you nervous about it,
does it kill you inside,
to admit that you actually like me?
Or, am I wrong in thinking,
that you actually find me,
that pleasant and amazing for you?
Can you just tell me,
what you actually think about me,
before I pain myself much longer,
with the ever-growing thought,
of wondering and considering,
the one question that keeps lingering:
is this love, or just another game?