Raquel JeanJoseph - Dark Romano

Everyday, I see him. The back of the class is where Romano stays, quiet, unreserved. His eyes tells me he dreams. Dreams in which I can never know; dreams in which I wish to be. Oh, how mysterious is his features; so graceful, somewhat not meant for this century. But of the time of great love, venetian romances and true culture. He seldom smiles. But when he does, In that instant I am born again. He is humble to himself. He does not speak to anyone in this ten o'clock in the morning music class. He hardly speaks at all. I beg for the moments in which the professor would call attendence, just for him to speak. Ah, and what a voice. Deep, calm; as if our dead class suddenly opened up its ceiling and graced him because of his exsitence upon this earth. His dark and rich hair of brown. His oh so sweet eyes of hazel. His features captivates me, even if I am to pay attention in class. I turn to view him over and over, as if I am going mad with delight. Oh, I swoon to him. Please, take me away from this mundane world I call music class. Speak to me. Speak to me with your dark voice. But alas, I fear he has another. Someone in this world must have his eye as much as he has mine. Although that may be, I will not rest. I will not deplete my quest to know of his mystery, his dark mystery.

Raquel JeanJoseph

http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/dark-romano/