π‘Šβ„Žπ‘–π‘ π‘π‘’π‘Ÿπ‘  π‘œπ‘“ πΉπ‘Ÿπ‘–π‘’π‘›π‘‘π‘ β„Žπ‘–π‘ π‘Žπ‘›π‘‘ πΏπ‘œπ‘›π‘”π‘–π‘›π‘” - ZorbaBooks

π‘Šβ„Žπ‘–π‘ π‘π‘’π‘Ÿπ‘  π‘œπ‘“ πΉπ‘Ÿπ‘–π‘’π‘›π‘‘π‘ β„Žπ‘–π‘ π‘Žπ‘›π‘‘ πΏπ‘œπ‘›π‘”π‘–π‘›π‘”

In this dance of emotions, I find myself caught,

Uncertain of his feelings, why he teases, I thought.

Yet, he brings laughter, that’s all I can see,

Jokes for and against me, a complex mystery.

He’s a good man, that much I know,

Helping me in sorrow, a supportive flow.

But my friends tease me, his name in the air,

How do I tell him, my heart is elsewhere?

I find myself drawn to my someone else, a growing affection,

Ice cream dates and vibrant skies, a sweet connection.

Clicking pictures, capturing moments so dear,

On rainy days, sweet laughter a special place, I hold near.

Movies, conversations, studying side by side,

His homemade lunch, a promise I confide.

But when will that day come, I wonder in despair,

Missing him, though time together seems rare.

A picture of us, a captured memory,

Love or attraction, what’s the true story?

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Arpita Roy