Is it my hand you want to hold?

The moment you enter the room

My heart stops

Not because I haven't seen you in a day

But a glimpse of a girl standing next to you 

Lucky me, she is only your classmate

You said that the moment your eyes meet mine

But dear one..

There is a poem already written for you, here..

Its not my forehead you want to kiss

Its not my laughter you want to hear

Its not my hand you want to hold

Its not my presence you want to feel

Yet, I am still hanging around...hopeless and livingless

As if you read my mind, you hold my hand that night

one time..two times...three times...

You hold it so often like you never wish to release it

But today, why being so cold again?

Is it really my hand you want to hold?