My Crush
At the bus stand, I stand alone,
A heart that yearns, yet feels unknown.
She wears her pink dress once a week,
A silent beauty, my voice so meek.
I don’t know her name, her voice, her smile,
But in her face, I find my while.
In her eyes, I lose my way,
Yet words to speak, I can’t convey.
My thoughts are tangled, fears in place,
I question worth, doubt my face.
Insecure and lost, I long to be,
The one she notices, the one she sees.
But how to bridge this silent space,
To win her heart, to find my place?
With trembling voice, I wish to start,
A simple “hi” to speak my heart.
Her pink dress sways, a weekly light,
In that moment, all feels right.
But still, I wait, unsure, unseen,
In this silent, distant dream.
Yet hope remains, a tiny spark,
To overcome this lingering dark.
With courage small, I’ll take a stand,
And maybe one day, touch her hand.
