Veiled

Naughty thoughts, mixing in open draughty halls,

A change from the usual constrained existence.
                                                                 

Haughty friends, taking crazy bends,
On a machine with no rear view mirrors,
Criticize you with empty eyes.

The feeling dries,
The criticism has caught a fleeting wish,
A dream embedded, too scared to voice,
Lest it never come true.

So the time is bidden, the waiting goes on,
But for how long?
And when will this fantasy end
One way or the other?