The Girl Poem by Manish Bowzzy

I gazed with wonder,
It was a dream.
Didn't exist.
Except, dreams did come true.
I touched her,
As the world gazed
Curious
'Weirdo'
'creep'
I felt love.

Except one.

'Hey kid-
Like her? '
'Yes sir, absolutely'

Then happened,
The most sacred
Hour.
I felt her,
The roar of her soul
Alluring me into her arms.
Memories were made,
Memories were remembered.
As we took a stroll back,
Back home.

She's been to temples,
Seen saints.
For her it wasn't pure.
She tore them
By her roar.
Yet, here she growled.
My veins
My veins are
Blue
My blood orange.
My heart quiet.
One with her.

She questions,
I have no anwers,
She coughs,
I have no cure.
Yet, she was beautiful.
Gowned in orange and blue,
She took a stroll,
Down the tunnel.
To find light.
She taught me,
To stay.
To hide.
To run.
To scream.
To silence.

The waters
Are no match,
Nor is the sun.
She herself shines,
As she carries me.
Through paths
Memories,
Clear and sharp like a dart.

She growled,
Rarely roared.
Not posing a threat,
she covered me
Protected.
She offered me
Freedom.
She didn't see me
Different
As I saw her. As a difference.
She was old,
Yet, she was gorgeous,
Gowned in orange and blue.
As we took a stroll back
Back home