I wish it was she I could see.
If we met, where would it be?
Would we have coffee or tea?
What would we say?
It would surely be a good day.
I would accept her anyway.
Just don’t go away.
I swear I saw her young wings.
Her expression brought outward is like she sings.
I wonder how often her phone rings.
Why is it we always fight against time?
And all I’m left with is this simple rhyme.
In front of her, I’m silent like a mime.
She’s so beautiful.
Heartfelt and bountiful.
Words please come forward and sound dutiful.
She smiles.
No sight of you in all this time and oh the miles.
What I wanted to say on paper was in piles.
I feel a cool energy.
It could be synergy.
Look, the passing clergy.
The bell has rung.
Oh only air from my lung.
A couple of people are
I hear her familiar voice.
A wonderful musical choice.
For me it’s a small vice.
Near by the faint smell of hickory.
Is this moment some kind of trickery?
No, it’s my Northern victory.

Kudos! To my 100th post :D Thanks to all the brothers and sisters in this site and especially Arigatou! to Neha Ganveer who told me about Writerbabu and by this last post, I Bid Adieu to this spectacular website.

Just Kidding :P

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