I walked down the hall,
Full of youthful exuberance.
The awkwardness of a short existence,
Clung to me like a passing cloud.
There you were walking between groups,
Your face reflected a confidence I’d never seen.
You said hi,
All I could do was smile as you walked by.
Michael is a husband, father, writer, poet, and aspiring author. He finds time to scribble down his thoughts in the dead of night, between ghosts and night owls. If you’d like to read more of his poetry follow the link here. Or to visit his full blog, ‘The Ink Owl’ click here.