My sunshine my moon light,
Je suis désolé, I walked away.
Thou art fair, O my beloved!

Thou didst gift me the art of living,
but not without thee.❤️
Thou didst teach me to give but, without exhausting self .
Thou thought me to Bestir after jeers.
Thee wast my addition,
yet good for my fettle.
Flaunting thee, I got lauded.
Feeling thee, I got better like a buss.
Was reflecting my mind's saga in thee!

Methinks why didst I avaunt ?Natheless, It's been months.. I know!
Can I forlorn thee?
Naa .. Thou art my amour.
I can't forsake, thee can I?
"je suis de retour bébé"
("I'm back baby")

Melancholy ain't making me poetical,
Instead, more panglossian!
The merman sobbing in rain,
Remember! Best lessons are the ones that comes from pain.
For, POETRY be my life.
Yes she's my amour!*

- Rose

I have torn countless pages off of my copy
These hands do not dare rub the words
Every orphan paper a cup of sugarless coffee
Pencil morphs to shield, eraser be my sword

The room resembles a scrambled puzzle
However insignificant they all have a role
Silent yet powerful like guns with muzzle
Broken to the naked eye but contribute to a whole

How is it that I can make you laugh and cry at the same time?
Your tears so precious they form at the lids, and become diamonds that fall out your eyes.
If I could catch them all I'd be the richest man alive.
Still I've managed to collect a few that I'll  hold on to, and cherish for all of time.