And when I do you will fall lower,
Lower than where you already were.
You will get strange sorts of fever,
Will blight you a higher temperature.
Be ****** you will for torturing me,
And you won't die but live to see me rise.
You isolated me from the world over,
Even my parents thought I was wrong.
But now they understand how I was wrong,
Because I was wrong in choosing you as my friend.
With a high dengue fever you already have been down,
Now with another fear away you will just be blown.
If I suffer because of you then rest assured,
Because you will not either be spared.
Time calls you to mend your ways soon,
Or nobody will know why you get a swoon.
For a person in my batch at my M.Tech college NDRI who just cut me off from the entire class by petty pointless politics.
HP Poem #1244
©Atul Kaushal