Some nights,
Am the fallen star,
with too many wishes
hanging upon it.

Some days,
am the wilted flower,
which has seen too many winters
and too few springs.

Mostly I am the invisible presence
that never quite learnt to show itself.
I have watched too many people
and know too well the bitter scent of pretence in the air.

They will pretend to,
see you,
know you,
love you.

Only for them to,
hurt you,
leave you,
**** you

Life is a party some said
but no one warned me
against uninvited  Guest.

Because a thing may seem cliche won't mean it isn't right.
Warm sunbeams, drumbeat thunder, and the clash of dark and light.
Or just because it's overused, don't say it can't be true.
Old words and phrases well describe my burning love for you.