not me; not she

i am waiting at the park
sitting on this stone bench
night came
but she didn’t come

i am still waiting at the park
i stretch my legs and feel the grass
sun came over
but she didn’t, yet

i am still waiting at the park
i feel nauseated and time, i donno what
someone came over and took me home
but not she

am at bed but still i feel am waiting at the park
i feel lifeless and i pinch my self
i can feel but someone else inside me
not me; not she..

epilogue:

the stonehenge saw seasons pass by
the stone bench saw seasons and life and love pass by

just cuz it rhymes ya maybe
but i feel itz said

2 Responses

  1. radha says:

    your poems are soft and pleasent

  2. Niha says:

    Its very touching.

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