Fifteen years have passed, but I still get that feeling. That feeling of anxiety, of nervousness. That shifting of legs, that speechlessness. I try to overcome, to just say as I wanted to say, to express myself the best, but I still fail today.
Fifteen years have passed, since I first held you. I still cannot forget the sweaty hands, that slippery touch. I still remember that rustle , that beating of hearts, that blank mind. Every time I hold you, oh, how you arouse my spirits. I try to be perfect; I plan days ahead for our
short dates. Even though you mock me, you tease me, (and you never realised how you harm my self esteem!), I still value my time with you. So much that every second the close comes nearer, I whine. I cry. The feeling of lose, that of shame, of self-disgust. I don’t know when it will leave me. I wish to conquer your arrogance, crush your ego. I wish to trample upon your self-esteem, so I could at last get hold of you. But I never could. Not in the countless times I met you. Never in your face, never behind your back. I know I tried, but you still evade me.
Fifteen Years have passed, since I first joined school. Fifteen years have passed since I first gave exams. But they still mock me. In my face.
Fifteen years have passed. So have countless exams. But I still hate them...
