Text

One noon, my friends pranked you,
Pretending like they always do.

They texted that I want us to meet,
Even if I don't want to greet.

They said that you should wait under the tree,
And said that you're gonna see me.

They texted that I'm giving you a chance,
That I finally notice you and look a glance.

They texted that I don't want you to let me go,
Because I hate people who leave me alone.

They texted that I'm soon gonna like you back,
Even if everything was all just an act.

A big part of me says that what they texted were true.
Should I pretend like what they do or try to stop fooling you?

After classes you granted the deal,
To wait for me and express what you feel.

When I looked down on the ground,
I saw you and heard no sound.

I was amazed of what you did.
So I went downstairs though my best friend forbid.

When I got down, you were shy.
I was also shy and I don't know why.

You asked a question if I was truly the one who made the text.
I hate lying so I said "no" then you kinda left.

When I got home, you texted, "I expect too much..."
I hurriedly bought a load and replied, "Don't say such..."

"I was the one who ordered them," I texted.
"To text you those words it said."

Honestly, yeah it was me.
But it was my friend's phone, you see.

Now, you understand?
It was my words, but they didn't give me the phone by a chance.

Our story started with a text.
Alright, what's gonna be next?

This poem is about: 
Me

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