Roses are perfect,
Violets are not.
You hated my imperfections,
While I was in love with your flaws.
Roses are perfect,
Violets are not.
You hated my imperfections,
While I was in love with your flaws.
Roses are mine,
Violets yours,
You’ll retreat,
My heart fake reassures.
Roses are fatal,
Violets impure,
Your love was a disease,
That I couldn’t ever cure.
It is when a woman speaks, she mostly utters poetry.
It was the night of betrayal. It was the silent night. I remember the gust of wind that swayed me along, and got me out of my thoughts. It was yet a silent night, but I could hear you tiptoe your way.
You tiptoed right onto my place, right onto my way. I was there by the bornfire. Dreaming in pain. Writing in vain. The last writing I could recall. I could hear your shadow scream in silence, scream in the dark, warning me of the forthcoming disaster.
Yes, I knew your company was bad, the aura you carried was my unhealthy diet. I knew something was wrong. I knew you were wrong. But it was as though I was tempted by the devil.
I could feel your rush, even in a hush. I could feel you striding onto my way. I could sense yourcoming very well. I could sense your intensions. I could smell them. I could feel them.
Your audacity no longer surprising me, I resumed my poem. Your intensions making me smile, call it what my vanity, but I no longer consider your existence any worthy. I smile and wait for you to take a step. Wait for your colours to pop, wait for your inner devil to show up.Then, the fire burned even more drastically. Not of the bonfire, but in my veins. I waited and waited, and what I had forseen, came true this day.
You stabbed me with the dagger of your betrayal. And yet, I bled poetry.
Is it too much to ask for, your love?
Is it too much to ask for when I long for your touch? I want your hands resting on my back, reassuring me everything’s gonna be alright. I want my head resting on your shoulder, your hand stroking my hair, telling me it’s okay. Is it too much to ask for?
Is it too much to ask for, that I desire hearing your voice? Is it too much that I want your soothing voice letting me know my worth? A monosyllable yes leaving your lips whenever I ask if we’re doing good? A little love from the edge of your lips. Is it too much?
Is it too much that I want your presence right beside me? Is it too much I admit your absence kills me? Is it too much when your presence drives me nuts and your absense insane? Is it?
Well, is it too much to ask for your love? Is it, or is it not?
Roses suffocate,
Violets choke,
As everything ours, feelings and trust,
Turned into smoke.
I cried my eyes out, bled out my soul.
I remember being all nasty, you being all cold.
I was all teary, I was all torn.
You took along my smile, with the fake mask I’d worn.
With every breath that I took,
I wondered what went wrong.
Where was it that what I overlooked.
I was taken aback, to see you leave.
Yes, I was shocked. Yes, I couldn’t believe.
I thought you were my escape,
But you turned out to be fake.
You took all you could, all you could take.
Guess, we were together just for the namesake.
Everything was in a mess,
Yes, I confess.
You turned out to be the demon, when I thought you were the best.
Everything was fine, yes I lied.
Recalled what all I could, yes I cried.
We were going really well, my friends used to say.
Liars, they turned out. With you, they betray.
I thought we were doing okay,
Now what it seems, you only wanted to play.
You played a nice game,
With my heart that was tame.
Yes, you are to be blamed,
For you brought me shame.
We were together at a time,
But now I guess that was a crime.
I thought again we’d begin,
But now I guess that was a sin.
You threw flame in my heart,
Guess what, it was torn apart.
All you did was simply depart,
But felt like you threw in my soul a dart.
Whatever I had thought of you, all assumptions went wrong.
You wronged me, when I thought we were going strong.
I thought we were perfect, our relationship was divine.
But guess what dear, you were never mine.
Roses are no more,
Violets died,
Yes, my soul bled
The day you lied.
© Khushi Suneja
Roses are liars,
Violets betray,
Yes, I got attached
But you left me astray.
Roses have left,
Violets gone,
I believed in your loyalty
But I was wrong.