My poem (1 Viewer)

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Okay, here it goes:





He’s Everything, and Nothing’s Right





He sits in class, with messy hair,


A tiny smile, beyond compare.


His jeans are ripped, his shoes are old,


But in my heart, a story's told.





He likes to draw in his notebook,


Rocket ships that leave me shook.


He doesn't know I watch him there,


Lost in his world, beyond all care.





His name is Dakota , a simple sound,


That spins my world and turns it round.


He talks to Leann , by the door,


And suddenly, I can’t feel the floor.





She laughs so loud, her hair is bright,


She shines beside him, like pure light.


I’m just a shadow, quiet and small,


He'll never see me, not at all.





He plays guitar, after school,


A lonely sound, that breaks the rule


Of happiness, of joy, of fun.


My life feels empty, 'fore it's begun.





I wrote his name inside my book,


And cried a little, in the nook


where no one sees,


The silent tears that choke and tease.





He's everything I'll ever want,


A shining star, I softly taunt


Myself with dreams that won't come true,


Because he'll never love me, too.





He's like the moon, so far away,


I reach for him, then start to sway.


He's made of sunshine, gold, and grace,


While I’m just stuck in this dark place.





Maybe someday, he’ll turn around,


And see the love I’ve always found,


But leann's there, and she’s so sweet,


My silly dreams can't compete.





So I will watch him from afar,


My secret love, a wounded star.


He'll never know the tears I weep,


While he's asleep, in slumber deep.





A whispered secret shared beneath the bleachers bright,


A sudden glance that fills the soul with purest light.





The locker combinations we pretend to need to check,


While hoping that our passing might our nervousness detect.





Your notebook doodles feature tiny hearts entwined,


A shy connection of a very hopeful kind.





We walk to class with careful space still in between,


A fragile friendship, wonderfully unseen.





The awkward passing in the crowded hallway maze,


Lost in the wonder of these new bewildering days.





We talk of homework, songs we hear upon the air,


Pretending not to notice how intently we now care.





The slight brush of a hand when reaching for a pen,


A jolt of feeling that begins and ends again.





This nervous joy we carry through the afternoon,


Like waiting for the rising of a very distant moon.





We practice conversations standing in our room alone,


For fear the simple truth might never find its tone.





A shared inside joke that makes the whole world fade away,


We live intensely for the promise of the next short day.





This simple trust, this budding feeling takes its hold,


A story just beginning, worth much more than purest gold.
 
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That was really good!
is this about IRL events? or just a story you made up to fit with the poem
 
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That was really good!
is this about IRL events? or just a story you made up to fit with the poem
Based on real events
 
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