Met him some years ago,
Fell in love as time went by.
Rejected him saying "It isn't love."
But that was a lie.
He held on saying he couldn't move on.
He said his love was real.
Asked him to wait for me,
Till first of April.
It's summer of '16,
April first.
This love might bloom,
Or turn to dust.
There he comes,
Seems so nervous.
Looks in my eyes,
"Can we be US?"
A 'NO' leaves my lips,
He doesn't ask why.
Doesn't even say a word,
Turns around and walks away.
A waterdrop falls on the ground,
I know it is his tear.
I feel my heart breaking,
It really does care.
So I say "wait!"
He turns around.
I run into his arms,
Where true love I found.
"April Fool, Idiot!!
Today's the deadline.
I wanna be yours,
So I guess you're mine."
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YOU ARE READING
Dreams
PoetryPeople weave dreams. Some come true, some don't. Some get shattered. I don't know if the ones I write here are ever gonna come true.. I don't know whether shattered dreams can live again.
