Seemingly I've stepped back into my teenage,
when thinking about your flame keeps you preoccupied, the entire day.
I try to isolate my mind and you,
but from the Jampacked streets in my head, you find a way out.
Why?
when I mean zilch to you!
I'v written a verse or two for you,
and keep waitin for a song, may be, that would convey your heart.
Forget decorated words, not even replies come from you
I keep wanting for you to want somethings, atleast, That I want to share
but you don't even share your beer can!
I v been told your priorities are different.
To hell with you.
Only, if I could mean that.Anyways,
I burn and burn in anticipation
if someday all this would even come true?
Call this obsession
Call me insane,
Iv got yet another question for you,
Iv written you a thousand letters,
would you care to read if I send them to you?
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