.
Mere the name of you
When someone mentions
Why should I go berserk?
The very face of you
Even after you left me,
Why should I hang on?
The seat you sat on,
Whenever I cross over,
Tells me your presence. Why?
You’re no more obliged.
I’m no more privileged.
Yet I pursue the mirage. Why?
The more you neglect
The more you titillate.
I grow desperate. Why?
You know- why?
You want to be
Merely a spectator.
You know- why?
You want only me
To play and amuse.
Play with me
But not play on me.
24.09.99
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem