a honey suckled boy you are,
who runs through the grassy
fields with sharp and dew
doused earthly streams of
green, barefoot.
a dreamer who slept under
the ink black skies with the stars
and moon, you were a dreamer,
but somehow you always
forget everything.
a poet, who romanticizes even
the smallest thing, the world
is beautiful, and should be viewed
with awestruck gazes, you said
one midsummer evening.
i know everything about you
and you know everything
about
me.
yet why haven't i known
the fact that
you were
wilting
away
like a. pretty little
flower cut off
from its stem
left to
rot under
the rushing
downpour.
NOTE :
this sucks-
