The Crush
A poem by Azuan Ahmad
That crush
It came in a rush,
Your lips remain hush
Your cheeks start to blush.
As if your heart impaled by a lance,
As if your emotion begins to dance,
So, you pray for a glance
Or at least a conversational chance.
"Should I text, should I call?
Should I reveal my name and all?
Should I just peep between the wall?"
You question yourself as you start to fall.
You yearn, you adore,
And imagine your very own love's lore,
Is that the person you are meant for?
Or just a crush, and nothing more.
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