The Mission Poem by Edwin Serrata

The bell has rung now, there are four minutes
Four minutes to see that one person, doesn't matter if I'm late for class
A glimpse is enough for me

I look feverishly, stalking like a wolf for its next prey
Hunger for that person is stirring
I'm paranoid, feeling that everying passing individual can be the one I'm searching for, that might
Slip my sight
Brush pass me
Gentle, like a floating piece of pollen

But I stop, stiff as a wall
And the person is in my view and walking towards me
A thousand thoughts breach my mind, thinking of a plot on ways to be noticed
But then...No! I start choking
My heart starts pumping and I get a cold sweat
Do I understand the situation I'm in?
That gap is closing between us and I'm losing time

I look like an idiot just standing
Courageous for the journey but fearful of the destination

And there, goes right by me
I can smell their sweet scent
Walking behing me now, I look back

I hear the bell ring now
I see the person dash to their next class,
As I should be doing
But of course being dumbfounded I stand there
And sadly with a sprinkle of aspiration I whipser
'Better luck next time.'