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This poem was written about a boy from my school whom I often see on the bus ride home. We're in the same geography lecture in school together, and I know at least one of his close group of friends. We've never talked, but we recognize each other and sometimes I like to tell myself that he looks out for me on bus 196. Although I had seen him for the past 2 years, I never really noticed him until recently, I'm not sure why, maybe because of his quiet yet gentle and strong demeanor. One afternoon, the sun was blazing hot outside, I sat two rows behind him, and actually looked at him properly for the first time. And I had feelings that I had never felt before. Curiosity about who he is as a a person, curiosity about his culture (since he is from a different culture as mine), and something bordering on affection. I went home and this poem just spilled out of my hands, graced by the light of the new moon that night. I hope you like it!

Your Back View

Pz-avatarby Lerizsoupe08 Oct 2016

One person, two figures embracing
In the moonlight.

Your back view,
Me sitting two rows behind you,
Watching you run those
Long fingers
And neatly-trimmed nails
Through your inky black hair.

Looking at you and wondering
What you were thinking.
You always have this impassive
Look on your face,
Like you're shielding yourself
From everyone else.

If I just break through
That hard film you hide behind,
I wonder what I would find.
What are you so eager to hide?

I don't think I've ever seen you laugh.
I only ever see you
With that hardened look on your face,
And I wonder what you're feeling inside.

Then I turn back to the window,
The beautiful houses passing by in a daze,
And I ask myself

How can someone be so fickle?
Jumping from one person to another
Like a bug hopping from
One unfortunate head to another.
Unconcerned with how the victims feel,
And only ever caring about your own

After alighting, you suddenly
Turn around to look at the bus.
You take a few steps,
Then turn around again,
And again.

I wonder what it is you are looking for,
That you should look so uncharacteristically earnest.
The afternoon sun puts me in a daze,
And I entertain a little thought
That maybe
You were looking for me.

I turn away and stare straight ahead,
Not daring to glance in your direction,
Because I know
That if my eyes meet yours,
Something new would start to bloom.

Something beyond what you and I
Can ever control.
Something that would cause
My carefully-constructed persona of indifference
To crumble,
Because your gaze
Makes me feel a million things.

My mask slips,
And I want to start a new
With you,
See where life takes us both

But we are two strangers
Joined by instances of (predestined?) meetings
Shy glances
Both pretending to be cool
Both scared on the inside,
Yet not showing it outwardly.

I don't know what will happen,
I'm frightened,
But approach me,
I want to tell you my name.