I Miss You Poem by Isabella Buttacy

I see you standing there. For the tenth time,
perhaps, I've looked over at you. Sometimes,
I catch your gaze. It has been a while,
hasn't it? We used to talk every day;
every day, you would smile at me when
our eyes met. What happened? We were almost
friends -- a sense of familiarity
growing between us. I was getting used
to you. I started to feel for you. Not
so long ago, I was sure that you had
feelings for me, too. But now, I feel like
I never knew you. The memory of
what friendship could have bloomed gone like a leaf
in the wind. I miss you. Just talk to me,
for I want to talk to you -- to know that
all hope for us is not lost; that there is
a slim chance for us to know the other.
Your radiant eyes -- oh! how I miss the
way they would gaze into mine. Come back to
me, please! Did I scare you off? Do you hate
me? How will I know -- how will I fix what
I've done to you if I never know what
it is? Your incandescent smile has
eluded me for too long, now. I miss
you. I hope that you miss me just as much.