Szeruha Martin Márk Poem by Szeruha Martin Márk

Her Beautiful Eyes Glance at Me

The school hallway buzzes with life and sound,
But when she appears, all the world slows down.
It feels like we're the only ones there,
As the universe holds its breath in the air.

She passes by me, slowly, quietly,
Her eyes brushing over me tenderly.
They linger for a moment, then dart away,
As I catch her gaze—she shies, in disarray.

This dance repeats, day after day,
A secret game unseen in the fray.
The silence between us, deep and profound,
Speaks louder than words, without a sound.

Is it mere chance that she crosses my path?
Or do her steps hide a calculated math?
For when she's near and casts that glance,
The world dissolves in a quiet trance.

Her eyes tell stories she dares not voice,
A fleeting touch without a choice.
And I stand there, mute and still,
Bound in this unspoken, maddening thrill.

But what happens when I meet her gaze?
When she doesn't look away, unfazed?
Perhaps the world will shatter, at last,
And with words, we'll break this spell so vast.