She's walking down the hall
Half dragging her feet
Unsure of how she's feeling
Does she want to see him?
Yes. She deeply enjoys seeing him
But no. Her outfit doesn't match
No. Her hair is too fluffy or it's too flat
Yes. She's having an off day but seeing him would set it on the right track.
No. She rushes to class, first one in the room. Or she takes forever at her locker, walking in as the bell rings.
Does she have lunch with him?
No, thank God. She can save herself the embarrassment.
No... she feels like she's alone in this room. She texts her only friend in the same lunch.
About him of course.
Something he said-
Or something she shouldn't have-
Lunch is over, she's in the only class where she can't get away with texting.
She dreads this class. The room feels cold, no one to talk to.
Her last class. It's downstairs, his too.
He's ahead, she doesn't say anything.
Should she have? She questions her actions all through last period, the teacher tuned out by her thoughts.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.I would like to translate this poem