Dear Miss Emily,
there are times I dream.
I have seen you in the,
halls.
I have seen you in some,
classes.
Years have passed,
and I have fallen.
I feel that I have fallen,
from Heaven itself.
For the past week,
I wanted to be more.
I couldn't figure out,
how to tell you promisingly.
Tonight I sit here and write,
thinking about you.
You know who I am,
but can you figure it out.
No one will,
tell you.
For I am,
your secret admirer.
Think about,
dating someone new.
Am I a boy,
or am I a girl.
You decide,
what you want.
If you want to know more,
write me a note.
How will I get it,
you ask?
Write your sister,
Amanda.
She will not,
tell you who I am.
But yet she will,
pass the notes between us.
I will eventually,
reveal myself.
But for now,
think of me.
---Your Secret Admirer
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