I type, type and keep on typing. Without wasting a second even for comma while typing.
I write all I want to tell you.
I write all I want you to know.
My fingers and feelings synchronised.
I am ready to click ‘send’.
But, I stop.
I erase all the words.
I won’t be able to do it.
A wave of feelings rise in my heart.
It is a strange fresh feeling.
Something I have never felt before.
Something I never felt for anyone but this for you.
I don’t understand.
Why it’s with me?
Why I feel this way?
Why this for you?
And lots of why with bla…bla…bla?
Whenever I hear anyone talking of you,
Telling how close you are with them,
I feel jealous.
I burn in the fire of jealousy.
I am affected by you, the way I am affected by no one else.
I want to show my pride,
I want to proof that I too have an ego.
I want to see, how long will you take to call me back.
To text me, to converse with me.
But I can’t bear it.
The pull of my patience breaks
And I submit myself.
I don’t want to feel this way.
I don’t want to feel rejected when you ignore me.
I don’t give a blame to anyone.
But it hurts when you don’t give even a look to me.
I don’t want to, but…
There is always a ‘but’.
You can share your “but” story with us, for that you are most welcome.
This poem , ‘ There is always a ‘but’ ‘ is under copyright of RhYmOpeDia.
heena chugh ( CHEERFUL SPARKLE)
© 2018 RhYmOpeDia
How about this poem?
Like , Comment and Share