Tonight I'll relive my sorrows,
In the hope of being happy tomorrow.
On such nights, I wonder if my name
shall ever again make her exclaim.
I love her cause I loved her.
I miss her cause I missed her.
I wonder if she'd care for tautology,
as much as she does for classroom pedagogy.
"She's there" I point to a place yonder,
"She's here", for distance makes the heart grow
fonder.
On such nights, I wonder if her countenance bewilders me
more
or less than my labored romantic verses, she abhors.
For all I have is my words, she will be another's
and another's, as I may be one with others.
On such nights, I dread she thinks of me as a terrible
kisser,
For I was first in the luscious fissure.
Maybe I should talk to her now,
and break the self imposed vow.
On such nights, I dread my empty bedside means more to me
than it could ever to her.
--
Nipun
--
Nipun