Red isn't always romance, sometimes it's blood,
Moon isn't always for lovers, but sometimes for secret cries,
Flowers aren't always for marriage, but sometimes for grave,
Petals aren't always soft,
sometimes they prick the soul.
No plagiarism/No hat...
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yes I'm that stalker you hated as you didn't knew i was the one who waited for days and months to get a chance for being honest
my messenger who went to your garden, they were sent by me, not to harm, but to send a gift of a rosepot from me.
but you threw the wrapped gift thinking it was poison, i tried to tell you it's not but never did you care to listen
yes I'm that stalker you hated as i followed you at places hiding behind trees and bushes to listen to your voice and thoughts you would never share with me as i knew we would never have talked, i was just an unnoticed stranger
you never saw love in emotions because for you, love could be found only in beautiful creations, like the moon, the jewels of oceans, but you couldn't find my soul there as dying things are ugly, right?
yes I'm that stalker you hated thinking i was forcing you to love me while all i wanted was to love even after seeing you wrote poems for another, yet i just stayed silent blamed, blemished with flaws of immaturity of us
yes I'm that stalker you hated for i was the sun who loved you, as my moon, waiting for a dawn, I died everynight
yes I'm that stalker you hated for there was no evidence i had that i really loved so here's me and my poems would you call them a lie?
yes I'm that stalker you hated and you will continue to hate Ignore, unnotice, unknowing to what i have written, my words lie right? but what about hundreds of poems? would you say poetry can lie?
