I maybe bad, I maybe rude
Whatever I'm but not a fake good.
I maybe good or I maybe bad
But I'm the lover you have never had.
-Yours ******.

Touching her is even more pleasant than touching
fresh petals of rose.
I want to know about
Me what she knows.
When she holds my hand
My feet are above the land.
Hers eyes, her eyes, HER EYES!
The place where my happiness lies.

Sometimes I feel to call her,
To make all the talks done together.
But when I think her mood may not be fine
Because of any fault of mine
Then I force myself not to call her
As I'm nothing for her.
Deep inside I feel deep sorrow
And again make plan to call her tomorrow.
Tomorrows never come,
I feel lonely like a solitary farmer in a huge farm.

We are born to face this world
Yet we know about the farthest future.
In the beginning we crawl,
Then we walk till last and at last we fall with a grief gesture.
One day we have to leave this world and go
Yet we are busy for ourselves and do not become selfless server.
We become more and more selfish and do not bow
This is a poem for the humans and not for the regardless reader.

I can only hope,
And try to find scope.
Thank God, hope and imagination is not a crime
When I hear your voice, it feels like hearing wind chime.
I can make many metaphors and similes in my poems for you,
Many are there in my stock, not a few!
But comparing things should be compared by you,
Which is my view.
My life sustains on hope,
You're tied with my life with the strongest rope.
No... I'm sorry, you are not tied,
You're a part of my life which in outer world I hide.