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Sometimes when I see you
I see a stranger
A beautifully mysterious stranger
It makes me want to get to know you again
For now let's just forget the romance
Let's focus on being friends

Sometimes when I see you
I see a flower
Not quite yet in bloom
It makes me want to wait for spring
To watch our love blossom again
For now let's forget the past lies
Let's focus on the present truth

Sometimes when I see you
I see a boy
An innocent boy
Not quite yet a man
It makes me want to hold your innocence
In the palm of my hand
For now let's just go with the flow
Let's forget what we had planned
sometimes when i see you ...
I am all about thoughts and words
Have been so all my life
Words ,being a recent find

A promise to my thoughts, I will word them all
To keep or break it , am yet to decide

The thoughts featherweight, upwards they fly
Words earth bound , gravity they can’t defy

The thoughts ,In silence they live
In words they die , To live another life
All about , Thoughts & Words :)
silvervi Apr 2017
If you don't call
I will not either
It is so cold without you
If you will fall
But won't catch me
I will not cry
About it
Since I can live
Without it

If you don't talk
So will not I
The silent wall
Between us
If you are tired
So am I
I will not entertain us

If you forget
I can do too
Sometimes fear
Is a useful tool
Afraid of pain
Of having lost
I better let you
Fall down first

If you don't see
So won't do I
I will not cry
And will not fight
If you will try
To get me back
I might come back
But only once
Again
A human self-protective reaction. Pride. Pretending. Revenge? Misunderstanding. Love? Hate?
K Balachandran May 2015
Morning mist frames her face, the contrast, he couldn't miss
a wild flower  fresh, bathed in dew drops, she becomes fulfillment.
A bee, as usual seeking honey,without being aware what awaits,
sleeps in her  chamber,couched in her love the whole night,
he stole her heart, she whispers, he keeps it as the fragrance
and the pollen smeared all over his being vowing never to remove,
a love it is, in essence different from all that he has hitherto known,
as if in a dream, stealing her heart,  he flies up to the ultramarine sky
all abuzz with love tunes , orchestration of nature, intoxicating,
his heart is full of light love fills, now this bee is even ready to die.
Lambert Mark Mj Feb 2015
A brown drool of dew
Crackling woven's clue
sitting on a desk pike
adjacent copies alike

But still he sits and gapes
on the old momento he keepsakes
with sober hands that rests
and of mellow smith's vest

on a creaky chair
with a pendulum clock
and a photograph he holds dear
as four seasons pass by the dreary wedlock

Through a thin-tormented picture
shallow eyes become ruddy
like an ill-fated venture
The lost of his Mrs. and laddie

that dim sullen memento of his
in that old wan home
is what brings him bliss
but locked inside a semi-finite dome
-he is-

— The End —