Here's the sonnet I wrote for English:
Sitting here in my room - a pen in hand,
Writing in my diary about you.
Always slipping through my fingers like sand,
My unrequited love; this will not do.
What is it about you that attracts me?
Thinking of all that you may love or hate,
I write what I believe from what I see.
But an enigma you are – a locked gate.
In my dreams you are open and we talk,
But all must soon fade with the rising sun.
Back to the same routine – you tease, I walk.
Hurt inside because all you make is fun.
In yet, it is hope that keeps me going.
Hope that one day all ends with the joking.