《The Dead Poets》15

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Charlie clears his throat, "My poem is titled '11.04'"

I smile, instantly recognizing the date.

November the fourth, the day we first kissed, also the day we began dating.

"The day my heart became lighter. The day my future became brighter.

Her laugh is like music to my ears, transporting me to a world without worries or fears.

I promise to love you forever, when things get rough I will give up never.

From the day I first met you I couldn't believe it was true, that there could be someone as beautiful and amazing as you."

"Wow! I am utterly impressed, Mr. Dalton. By far the most authentic poem to date! Job well done," Mr. Keating praises, doing a pantomime of a courtesy to Charlie.

The class claps as Charlie returns to his seat, as another student goes up.

"Wow." I whisper, once Charlie has taken his seat behind me. "That was really sweet," I finish earnestly, a welcomed warmth spreading over me.

"Well, it was nothing." He smiles smugly, leaning farther back in his chair.

"Oh, is that so?" I ask sarcastically, cocking a brow.

"All I had to do was think of you."

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