UNTITLED

Location

West Bengal
Kharagpur
India

Let I be the thorn and you the rose,
Each time I prick someone we grow close.
Neither you are eternal nor I,
Each pricked finger is a witness that you are mine.
Many an insect may hover round you,
But I hope I  be the only one to bring you heights of love new.
The fragrance of your love run in my veins,
I love you with all my heart and not my brains.
For those ugly butterflies you fall,
Who suck you from inside and don't let you take your call.
I absolutely hate those butterflies,
Because of their intemperence, idleness and their vice.
I know you don't love me as much as I do,
But that doesn't mean we can't have a common dream to persue.
The leaves whom you take as your friends,
They are trying hard enough so that the goodness in you ends.
The soil and the water tried to make you understand,
That your life is actually a piece of arid land.
These colourful dreams are nothing but illusions,
So don't indulge yourself in such fake emotions and embarrassing situations.
You know that I am very bad at expressing myself,
But I wish I could tell you that I love you  TODAY before the clock strikes the hour of midnight at twelve!

This poem is about: 
Me
Poetry Terms Demonstrated: 

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