I saw her first,
in front of my office steps.
She was sitting in a chair,
wow! ! ! What a nice dress she wore.
Her dress color was green;
Trust me I wasn’t in dream.
She looked like a village girl,
to my eyes she’s like an angle.
She came for a project,
and no one knows what her subject.
She said her name is *Priya*,
that time the course She doing was MBA.
She become my friend,
believe me I didn’t pretend.
But she left my office with smile,
and she leaves some spirits in a pile.
Then she got the job,
in there her heart someone robed?
So she moved away from me,
what it means to be.
She said I am still her friend,
but I worried our friendship may end.
She keeps always silent,
that makes me to do violent.
I am trying to be calm,
because she cares like my mom.
I can able to understand,
she may had some problem it has to see the end.
I am sorry she got no way out yet,
But she made me become a poet.
Yea! I met her four years ago,
And I want our friendship non stop to go…
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem