Xanother Unread Storyx Poem by miranda shaffer

There was this girl, in the back of my class,
So shy and quiet, sitting near the window of glass,
She'd do her work alone, never saying a word,
Barely present in any story of gossip that she heard.
Alone and lonely, her brown hair in her eyes,
With her notebook open, and nearby her pen lies,
Constantly writing, never a word to waste,
Secretly through my eyes, it was her that made me amazed.
She'd never run down the corridors, or create any mayhem.
She would never answer any questions, abrely even hearing them,
She'd be off in her own world of scriptures and thoughts,
A life that I dreamed to live, a false reality of some sorts.
Barely anyone knew her name, and nobody thought of her,
Sometimes I wish I could've gone over and gotten to know one another.
She was neglected from the pack, and she didn't seem to mind,
But I did have a feeling that she did have some secrets to bind.
One day I walked in late, and she was not in the class,
She wasn't sitting by that window made of glass,
She was nowhere to be seen, and nobody knew why,
Maybe because they had forgotten her, I was the one to cry.
Her notebook was the only thing left from her on that table,
When class was over I picked it up, and opened it to a fable,
She had written one lonely day of the raven being the dove,
And how the lonely ghost did find someone to love.
I wept my tears and flipped the pages, calling out her name,
I read every story and thought of her, and how I would never feel the same.
She had gone forever, and I wanted her presence back.
For now that she had gone, my days were coloured black.