the days when liking someone was so simple and meaningless
like someone for no reason, or purpose
you like the way the looked
you liked the way the acted
they were nice to you one, or twice
you know its going no where
but you like them anyways
for no good reason
you see them once or twice a day
you see them in school
you keep it a secret, only your best friend knows
people ask you all the time 'who do you like'
and you only reply 'nobody! ! '
any you get frustrated, and embarrassed
and when your pathetic secret is revealed
you cry in the halls in embarrassment
and run away
such a pathetic excuse for love...
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.