The poems I wrote left emotions untouched,
My feelings lay hidden among my 'friendly' chats,
Only if I were to say what my heart wanted to,
We'd be closer than where we at.
But, what if, it causes dismay,
And I lose more than I have,
And that's why I better not say,
What lies within, this feeling, untamed.
Upon which, lies the misery,
Of having fallen for the one,
Whom I share my worries with,
My best friend is what I call her,
Now in want of a title that'll mean we're closer,
Oh, it'd mean so much more than what stands now,
We'd be there in each other's arms,
Even when miles apart.
All that'd happen only if she'd feel the way I do.
Oh, could it be, I think sometimes,
That she thinks the same of me,
But is unable to tell, to express, to share, just like me?
Then what strikes me, are our ways of life,
How different we are, me and her,
We might giggle together,
Laugh aloud and mingle and have fun,
But our deepest desires are not one,
While her days pass like they used to before,
My days don't pass without her thoughts,
While I might just be a friend to her,
She to me is the most special of them all,
The things I say, are not the ones she hears
The things I notice, are invisible to her,
The books I read are not the ones she does
Perhaps, we are then, on different pages,
In our feelings, as in our habits.
Although in this heart that she resides in,
There lies a tiny speck of hope,
For a day when we shall be besides each other,
Hand in hand, ready to confess,
To express, to speak our hearts out,
When our wants will be one,
And the other's company a need,
When people around shall disappear,
And we'll look at one another, that'll lead,
To us getting closer and closer,
And kiss each other.