She has her pink summer solstice and her spring is he.
Also, a little average of her own, she got for free.
Though her first love is always coffee,
Her one day's blossom is me.
And my thorns she omits to see.
As her unmatched shade of grey, I artsy.
and at times in her joy of nothings I glee.
My darling child is she and her wicked witch is "Me".
Collectively a masala mash up is we.
Her lover is no mystery and his affair is her main misery
She says love can never harm, only to turtles may be.
Alas! Her dearest is in disguise, knew not she.
She treasures the flabby one that remains, but her perfect ring did flee.
Oh! In this vicious cycle of life, only she could love the lost, one must agree.
Checklists checked and yet if your plans spill, she calls it a bliss still.
One moment she is the kill and shortly later she makes you immortal with her skill.
Yes! To be one sweet sound of irony is my lady's will!
When life is wrecked and each day is a drill.
And when way across seems all uphill.
She tries to fit in the mould and fill
If not, choose to handshake and part your bill.
Because she has always got her gulmohar getaways to chill!
She gets wise and high watching an eagle fly.
Petitions she write to your sunlight,
To re-align it's daylight and shine bright.
She paves you a road to delight and
In between hides the bait,somewhere tied tight.
She has got a memory curse, remembers even the remnant of scents you disperse.
Under her Kajal smudge, there is so much sorrow and misjudge.
Because unasked burdens she carry and about his thirty three she worry.
Insanity and insecurities made her draught.
Deep conversations she "Then" sought,
With persons who owns her heart.
But only with muted screams she fought
And only deepest cut she got,
Waiting for what!? even she knew not.
So to blame it on time was her only resort,
Because thoughts and contemplation did naught.
Beware and be aware, she self-taught.
In immaterial books and train journey, love she got.
And food did comfort her a lot.
Thus running against the world, she took halt.
Life, love and laughter into it's handicapped land she brought!
Dancing gracefully, mastering every beating heart.
Through Zoya's stories, her childhood back she caught.
Happiness beckoned, in celebration of her art.
How beautiful life has changed since then...I always thought.
Ya! With me she belong, and I will love her no matter what!
Also, a little average of her own, she got for free.
Though her first love is always coffee,
Her one day's blossom is me.
And my thorns she omits to see.
As her unmatched shade of grey, I artsy.
and at times in her joy of nothings I glee.
My darling child is she and her wicked witch is "Me".
Collectively a masala mash up is we.
Her lover is no mystery and his affair is her main misery
She says love can never harm, only to turtles may be.
Alas! Her dearest is in disguise, knew not she.
She treasures the flabby one that remains, but her perfect ring did flee.
Oh! In this vicious cycle of life, only she could love the lost, one must agree.
Checklists checked and yet if your plans spill, she calls it a bliss still.
One moment she is the kill and shortly later she makes you immortal with her skill.
Yes! To be one sweet sound of irony is my lady's will!
When life is wrecked and each day is a drill.
And when way across seems all uphill.
She tries to fit in the mould and fill
If not, choose to handshake and part your bill.
Because she has always got her gulmohar getaways to chill!
She gets wise and high watching an eagle fly.
Petitions she write to your sunlight,
To re-align it's daylight and shine bright.
She paves you a road to delight and
In between hides the bait,somewhere tied tight.
She has got a memory curse, remembers even the remnant of scents you disperse.
Under her Kajal smudge, there is so much sorrow and misjudge.
Because unasked burdens she carry and about his thirty three she worry.
Insanity and insecurities made her draught.
Deep conversations she "Then" sought,
With persons who owns her heart.
But only with muted screams she fought
And only deepest cut she got,
Waiting for what!? even she knew not.
So to blame it on time was her only resort,
Because thoughts and contemplation did naught.
Beware and be aware, she self-taught.
In immaterial books and train journey, love she got.
And food did comfort her a lot.
Thus running against the world, she took halt.
Life, love and laughter into it's handicapped land she brought!
Dancing gracefully, mastering every beating heart.
Through Zoya's stories, her childhood back she caught.
Happiness beckoned, in celebration of her art.
How beautiful life has changed since then...I always thought.
Ya! With me she belong, and I will love her no matter what!
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