Brandon's Poem

The doors sprung open and a chilling gale filled the hallowed halls Dried up leaves scurried across the mosaic tile ground A pair of beat up combat boots, one after another Entered the hall with a light echoing thud The boy with the well worn combat boots Long hair And light gray trench coat Traipsed down the hall with a semi- cocky swagger Which was quite refreshing To see such confidence in such a new face And I was left standing Gazing down the hall Class ended abruptly as the final bell sounded I began to look down the hall Longingly Searching for the boy with the smug swagger Soon I could feel the tense buzz that was humming rapidly through the air I could hear the gears of the rumor mill turning I tuned my self into the conversations that were going on around me The whole school seemed to be discussing the object of my fascination As I continued down the hall towards the exit Continually eavesdropping I spotted him as he walked in the opposite direction That would be the last glimpse I would get of him That day The weekend flew by much too fast But I found myself thinking As I rose from my bed That I would At last Get to see him again And see him I did After my first class I walked down the stairs As he was walking up them Our eyes met Only for a second Before I shyly turned away Not daring to speak I continued on my way The next day came But he was not there Nor was he the next day By Thursday I began to wonder Did I imagine him Was he really real I was no longer sure Friday is always a wonderful day It means freedom is so close So close you can taste it But this Friday was truly great For he had returned But still I could not bring my self to speak to him I was too shy Monday morning brought fresh news The object of my secret affection had developed a fondness of his own He was standing in the hallway by the stairs In his beloved combat boots A slimming black tee Baggy Black pants With his hair pulled away from his face in a casual low pony His hands were shoved deep into his endless pockets And the stick of his sucker was sticking out of his mouth at a strategic angle To create the illusion that he was having a smoke I approached him with a bit more confidence Today would be the day Today I would talk to him But, before I got to him, he reached out his hand And touched another girls forearm “Do you want to go out Friday” He whispered He had developed a crush Who would soon become his girl His light His life But it wasn’t me It will never be me