yea,
i like him.
will he ever know?
i hope not,
but i hope so.
i love the way he smiles,
laughs,
cries.
he's beautiful.
a small blue stone surrounded by black and gray.
he is perfect.
i sometimes ask myself,
'why do we have this feeling,
of hope and joy,
excitement and secret, love? '
i wait for the phone,
to ring and come up with his name.
he would studder and i would settle him.
he would ask that question that i've always wanted to hear.
i'm still waiting here,
sitting by the phone.
call, call, call...
maddy macleod
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/call-call-call/
