The quietness of the night in June,
Told me that I should call you,
I looked through the window,
Waiting for you but—
I remember I'm not your home.
Loving you makes me feel scared,
It's not that you won't love me back,
Or you'll take me for granted—
It's because of the karma.
YOU ARE READING
Love of Roses [Poetry & Prose]
PoetryRoses are the flowers of Love; You are a rose That blooms on sunrise, And fell in sunset. Roses are the poems of love; You are the words I wrote, The rythmns of letters, For I am yours, And you are mine.
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