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He's there, with the head moving, looking in all directions.
His eyes, those eyes. Eyes that I like to look, observe.
I try, tirelessly, hold those such eyes in my eyes.
What do I expect? A smile, maybe.
Who knows even a little kiss by air?
Even a wink, a poor wink, would make me satisfied.
But we can't command the looks of everybody.
He would never see me as a sweetheart
And I see me as a broken-hearted girl that has to hide her feelings.
I know and I can say that's hard to live a platonic love.
When, at rare times, our eyes cross each other,
He smiles to me, and I return the smile,
That's not enough, but makes me happy
Anyway, I still hope one day I'll get a wink from him.

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