Many times before I got committed,
Inside my mind I discussed it,
Should I desist from loving her,
Should I take care of myself first,
Indeed she was very much young,
Never I thought she was immature,
Gripped lightly her arms so tender.
Hues of crimson red now exist,
Effort to string them together,
R**oses of the memories of her.
My HP Poem #1584
©Atul Kaushal