Maybe you're amusing,
Maybe you're funny,
Maybe you're beautiful
And maybe
You are too irresistible;

Even though,
I don't know how you'll look like,
I don't know how your voice will be like,
But I know
The sight of you will be like
a ray of sun in winter day,
The voice of yours will be like
the melody which I'd always want to play;

I hope that you would find someone
who'll love you like me,
And someone
who doesn't share my destiny;

I know I'd be broken to see your arms
around someone
who isn't me,
But I doubt if I'll go through that breakdown
Considering how soon
I'll be only a memory;

She was crazy and wild,
Just the way he was irritated by her
He would be at peace
whenever she smiled;

Your smile is angelic,
Your scent is sedating,
Your voice is melodic
And only for you
I get this much poetic;

These feelings are confusing me
day by day,
And maybe that's why
I'm trying to find reasons
to stay away;

When the ripples of the past mar the image of today, and the fragrance of a past bloom embitters a current aromas broadcast.
Then what could have been, that never happened, can be blamed on nostalgia and fervent contrast.
For a new bloom will never perfectly reflect the past, neglect not this seasons bloom, searching for that of the last.
The past although sensual is intangible, cling to the present knowing it could leave you just as fast.