A boy and a girl.
The boy saw the girl skip meals, run around a city and carry a storybook heart.
The girl saw the boy turn pink when spoken to, but sometimes, love took a little more than it should.
One day, the boy saw her again, and found no words to speak.
He went home wondering why, and slept with an answer to seek.
The girl went back home too, that night, crashed at the pillow, nothing seemed right.
Fireflies mustered courage, and wind just withered by.
The next time they met, they let thirty seconds script an eye contact.
The boy wore a smile, as the girl cupped her own face for a while.
He smiled, he giggled, he joked.
She heard, she saw, she spoke.
Why are you so quiet, are you alright?
Yes, I am.
Just that I don't want to tear my cheeks, laughing about something today, smiling about something tonight, for I know like all stories this ends, and tomorrow I'll wake up crying.
The boy went quiet, as her lips shivered, a chain of monsters slept inside.
Some stories are too scared to live, because they fear that they'll die.
The boy leaned in as her eyes dropped, a beating heart, took another stop.
He pulled her close and kissed her cheek, for all the love she tried to keep.
It somehow left and somehow stayed, unless someone stepped in so brave.
The next moment she had her lips on his, the moon stepped in, a witness uncalled.
The best love never wanted to fly, but be something which never falls.
I haven't seen the torn cheeked girl, it has been quite some time.
So I pretend to call this poem 'my heart' for sometime,
no wonder, very soon,
You'll find her in this rhyme.
-Mayank Arora
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| From desicomments.com |
Inspire, and keep our hearts safe so that it will not be broken.
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