About a Glance

July 18, 2009
By Jessica Tarantine BRONZE, Glenshaw, Pennsylvania
Jessica Tarantine BRONZE, Glenshaw, Pennsylvania
1 article 0 photos 0 comments

I sit alone,
I look around,
My eyes fall,
Their target is found,
I lose my train,
All thought is gone,
I dare not look up,
So I stare at the ground,
Giving it a longing look,
My mind starts to wonder,
To all of the "what ifs",
All of the never-gonna-happens,
The daydreams of tomorrow,
The feeble hopes of a girl,
Which will never come to pass,
Thinking of tomorrows,
A smile may cross my face,
But remains unseen by all those important,
The feeble hopes remain unseen,
The smile fades,
The eyes glance up,

They ketch a glance,
The smallest, imaginable, unnoticeable glance,
I stop,
I am almost lost in his eyes,
The hopes pulsates,
And for a moment,
I believe it,
The possibility of a tomorrow with him,
That far-fetched hope is present,
It gives me strength,
To turn my head,
And cast my eyes away,
Pushing all thoughts out of my head,
I embrace the miserable defeat,
He'll never know,
And I'm not strong enough to tell,
That little part of me,
Which was so dear,
Is gone and never to return,
How can tomorrow come?
If I ever thought it was something I could handle,
My lie convinced only me.

The author's comments:
The following is an attempt at an earnest account of a love-sick girl in a third period math class.

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