A Billet-Doux Poem by Tina Ashok

This is about a lass whom I love -
Who, for me, is as dear as dove.
She is a girl so clever,
Only I know, how much I love her!

She could dope me up by her wit,
Being with her I never worried - even a bit.

She was a staunch supporter of mine,
But now she launches a heavy fine,
And keeps aloof; Alas! I pine.
Why doesn't she come into my line?

Without her I'm all of a dither.
The flowers in my little garden wither.
Before the world I wear a glossy garment -
To conceal my inner torment.

What does she feel? I'm not sure.
I have no tricks to lure.
She sickened my heart that was pure.
No one but she has the cure.

Will she heal me or hurt further?
The answer is - in the future, and with her.