I like him a lot, but does not see me. he only sees the person whose shadow, I am engrossed in. I don't mind he can not see. I am like the pigeons in Central Park common and ordinary. But I may not know who, someone is there. He is there, He can see me, He is the one who watches me fly, the one who is kind enough to leave bread crumbs. Who is patient enough to wait and watch. I may lust after him, but I was the one who was blind to Him.
I wrote this poem, after I got over this guy I liked. He liked my friend, and doesn't even speak to me. but I soon realized that he wont ever like me, so I got over him, and I am waiting for the right one.