I hate him,
Too arrogant to show he cares,
The way his smile fades, when I approach him,
Too busy to wipe my tears,
Taking back the hands he had stretched, to hug me.
Sometimes I wish I were a mirror on his wall,
Or a path along which he walks,
Or a cute bird on a tree,
At least I could catch him smiling at me.
I hate him,
The way he made my tears flow,
Every moment I thought he didn't care
The way he made my cheeks glow,
Every time he was around me somewhere.
Sometimes I wish I were his favorite song,
Or the watch on this wrist,
Or a beautiful flower on a bush,
At least he would pick me, never mind even if it was for another girl.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
A refined poetic imagination, Swathi. You may like to read my poem, Love And Lust. Thank you.