Thousands are out there with hundreds of hopes.

Some sheding tears, some imagining your smile.

They always wait for that one ‘Hi’.

And your Last Seen is their Goodnight.

Frankly speaking that nobody is frank.

Your liking becomes their personality and style.

You are their ambition, their oxygen

Their night and day,

Their reason for fights,

Their only subject without a guide.

You are the topic they may even edit Wikipedia and write.

You’re their truth and the cause of their foolish lies.

Their stomach fills when roti enters your foodpipe.

They believe in you and live by you.

This poem confuses you; No rhyme just like between them and you.

Milady, still they love you.



Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s