The Girl

by bobby fernbaugh




her face glows with beauty.

her body is shaped like an hourglass.

she knows every man,

but me.

to her, 

i’m non-existent.

in class,

i sit in the corner,

quietly by myself.

not one look 

from her 

comes my way.

one time in the hall,
she looked and waved.

i smiled with joy,

but i looked behind me,

and the wave was intended

for another boy.

i turned away 

and crawled ever so quickly

back into my hole.

to her,

i’m invisible

as the wind

in springtime.