Without a Clue

You’re such a heavenly view
When will we ever happen–me and you?
I yearn to find the words to say,
Yet all I ever say is “Hey”

How could I even make you feel,
Or see, or think that I’m for real
When all I do is stalk and stare
Steal glimpses of you when unaware

I hide and thrive in anonymity
But hope and pray for serendipity
So I say to myself
That these are better left on a shelf

I pour these feelings on poems as such
Without even expecting much
Sadly, you will never notice
How sweet his love, the one who wrote this.