Do you know yourself,
As well as I know you?
Or do you keep contemplating,
Searching for a clue?
Confusion is your source of desperation,
An enigma of some sort.
Eccentricity is an obsession,
Naivete, your sole possession.
You come across as a wonder,
A sparkle in the still waters.
Your smile lights up the sky,
The silence takes me into a trance.
Why are you always on my mind,
Like a voice inside my head.
You speak to me in a quiet hush,
Reminding me of my fantasy.
I wish you were for real,
That you had a mortal soul.
A bloom which I could hold,
Like a petal you'd unfold.
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1 comment:
Being mystified is a universal problem these days. At times what is obvious is obviously not obvious…
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