Twisting then her auburn hair,
Furled around a finger taut,
She tugs and twirls so aimlessly,
Grasping hard to calm a thought.
Nervously she nudges so,
A pretty girl who's in distress;
A boy she likes ignoring her,
Niggling, it means no rest.
Fussy in her stressing fume,
She lurches out with no design;
She can't begin to quell her state,
Nor hide the wails that roar inside.