ME AND HER

    
                              PART 1

Today I wanted to talk to her:
Had a letter in hand,
For sure I didn’t have the guts sir.
But I knew that it was just like the sand,
which was toppling from my hand.

How it feels I don’t know;
Didn’t talk to her since my broken toe.
Why this long? Didn’t I ask,
she said there was some task,
Was this one real or another of her mask.

Tried calling her she wouldn’t pick,
Gave reasons of being a bit sick,
You would think shouldn’t he interrogate,
She smiled and said, he wouldn’t pass this gate.
I was in a situation of going check mate.

‘Smile’ I was talking about:
It consists of all that comforts you,
All that calls you and
Tells everyday is new…
I didn’t know what to tell my words were few.

After all this I wake up the day next,
Try again with a new and better zest,
For all I know she said she’d call…
Should I write this to take your poll?
No…this wasn’t for that but for me and her…

                                   PART 2

Today I’ll met her for the first time!
Letter? No, I’ll talk to face.
You would ask, where’s the guts for this crime:
I’ll say that I’ll bear the chase.
I’ll make sure it’s not like the last case.

She asked how did I feel:
for this time I had a broken hand.
Why this care? ‘ I’ll always take your stand!’
Seeing that I did half heal.
This time I had the case seal.

Would pick my calls ever;
Oh, I was used to this never.
I tried to take it slow,
but I feared my zone getting bro.
Didn’t go check mate, this game I played clever.

‘Care’, I was talking about,
it is all that makes you happy,
and a “Gn” gives a good sweet nappy.
Says that everyday is the same bout,
‘I’ll stay’, said that with a great shout.

After all this I wake up everyday,
full of surprises like cold in May.
For I know she’ll call…
Should I write this to take your poll?
No…this wasn’t for that but for me, her and she.

                                 PART 3

That day I regret not talking to her:
Letter? Oh! I needed more.
Guts here had to come on spur;
it wasn’t sand, it was a rock sore,
remembering all that, my heart tore.

I didn’t feel how it should’ve felt then;
for the broken toe her prayers were on,
it did take long, there was a task,
should have asked then like gentlemen,
it was real but the mistrust had already grown.

When it came to me I didn’t pray,
she was very sick.
Was caught up in my own pick;
It is a faulty game of which she was a prey,
I wasn’t ready to lose in love I lay.

Wasn’t just the smile, it was her soul,
it had everything that understood me;
to me she was the extreme pole:
thinking was he,
thought put in by she.

All that happened, I didn’t know,
she did call I wasn’t there,
she left like summer after snow.
On this I’ll take your poll,
it’s either her or she, whoever I shall bow.

-Mohit V