From the day your eyes reflected my face,
from the time you opened a part of your heart,
it’s you and only you in my mind’s space,
turning whatever I create into art.
But all of them were cheesy I already knew,
so I can’t share the words I write for you.
I’m still not sure, maybe it was stuff you said,
the stories of your childhood and couple of braids,
what you loved, hated, feared and played.
Yes! We met just now but I missed you for decades.
You’re so special to be true
still, I can’t share the words I write for you.
It’s not something in you that stops me,
it’s just that no words can describe what you are.
To open an unknown me, you have a key.
Though I call you the moon, you are no less than a star.
And maybe it’s because I want to hear it too,
that I can’t share the words I write for you.
When someone just mentions your name,
my face lights up so bright,
like it’s the glow of fresh fame,
shining boldly on a dark night.
Crazy I was when on the page, the feelings I threw,
I may regret but I can’t share the words I write for you.
I never imagined someone will do this,
helping my story see a start,
your mind, words and smile I do miss,
and instead of stealing, you became a part of my heart.
Yet these lines are too sticky which I can never undo,
thus, I can’t share the words I write for you, with you.