The girl stands solely own her own
Her face bright pink, a-glow
She stares in eagerness at the face approaching
The visage of a boy nonetheless
He slowly comes nearer
A whiff of his scent preceding
The rhythm of his steps pulls her in
Oh what a heavenly angel
But as he walks on by
No acknowledgement of her existence
She bows her head in embarrassment
His pride overriding her timidness
Never will they speak, never will he know her
The girl who worships, idolizes, dreams
Instead the sweet soul will wait for him each day
Anticipating a simple “hi” that will not come her way
Not knowing she will never be good enough for him