To The Girl Who Sits In Front Of Me In Math Class

   I seem to have forever to stare at the back of your head.

Words drift through the air, but I don't hear them.

Your soft blond hair lays gently on your shoulders.

My greatest enemy is the bell that makes you leave.

There is so much I would love to tell you.

But when you look at me I cannot speak.

I can only sit here in the back of this crowded classroom.

I can only think the three all powerful words.

I can only stare at the back of your head.