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Poetry from the Teenage NERD.
Part 8

None of these days,
shall pass,
without one noticing,
the end
on the horizon.


it's nearing
the end of the day
and nothing is happening.
We work
while the teacher
messes with our heads.
Will this class never end?


The tears appear.
Waiting to fall,
but forbidden.
The music continues to play.
My heart drops.
Nothing makes sense,
everything is wrong,
but nothing can't happen.
To wait could end this thing.
Not the whole,
perhaps,
but enough,
to hurt us both.


Oh, how lonely
is that single ring,
right before the click.
It's important,
and the longer I wait,
the worse it seems to get.
An answer I'll never get.