In hallways dim, where shadows play, A goth girl walks in cool array, Her name, Isabella, whispered low, A secret crush, as pure as snow. Her presence felt like midnight's grace, With raven hair and porcelain face, Kind words she spoke, a soothing balm, Her gentle nature, a calming calm. Among my friends, the whispers grew, They teased, they laughed, as friends will do, Yet courage fled when faced with heart, For fear of truth that keeps us apart. In middle school's uncertain light, Where daydreams blend with dusk and night, I wonder if this flame ignites, Or if it's bound to silent flights. Does Isabella see my glance, In this odd dance of teenage chance? Is love a game played shy and sly, Or do we dare to spread our wings and fly?