Notice me

Every weekday at 4pm, I gravitate
Toward my usual place. Ignoring the chit-chat,
My eyes sweep across the hall and hesitate
On a mop of blonde and two pools of grey.
Mesmerized, unable to pull away,
Iโ€™m drawn like moths to a dancing flame.
Please donโ€™t notice my staring, I silently pray.
Itโ€™s rude, I know, I canโ€™t help but feel this way.
Desperate for distraction, I diddle my gaze downward
At the pile of scrawly notes; but instead, I just see
His beautiful face brushing against the calligraphy.
And there he is again… not noticing me.
The clock strikes quarter to six
Heโ€™s always one of the first to leave.
Before I could get his attention, he was gone.
And it takes me a moment
Or two
Or three
To realize: He will never notice me.

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